


The Night and the Fae

by hblake44



Series: Fairies, Elves, and Vampires [3]
Category: K-pop, TWICE (Band)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Slow Burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 158,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22318384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hblake44/pseuds/hblake44
Summary: Normally you'd expect the human to stumble upon a vampire. You'd expect them to be enchanted by the other-world beauty. But what happens when it is the vampires who stumble upon another supernatural being? What if they were the ones who were enchanted?
Relationships: Hirai Momo/Kim Dahyun, Hirai Momo/Kim Dahyun/Minatozaki Sana, Kim Dahyun/Minatozaki Sana
Series: Fairies, Elves, and Vampires [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954555
Comments: 40
Kudos: 192





	1. Out of Place

**Author's Note:**

> These three met in school, each of them bound to that walk of life by features frozen in time.
> 
> The fae are a secluded race, at least those in Asia. Vampires, on the other hand, can be found in every corner of earth. So, what do the supernatural do when faced with the unusual? Will they try to coexist with them? Or will they react with violence? 
> 
> ______
> 
> This is a Saidahmo fic, but the other members of Twice will be found throughout. It's set in high-school, but I wanted to try something new. When I say "Fae abilities" or "Vampiric abilities", a lot of this will be explained later and other stuff is more a given. Vampires are incredibly strong, heal fast, and are immortal. Fairies (or faeries) are also immortal, but they are not as invincible as a vampire might seem to be. 

The scent was subtle, but they could pinpoint the moment its owner walked into the school. Sana and Momo glanced at each other, but quickly dropped their gazes. Momo peeled her ears for any new voices, but only heard the mutters and comments about the new student. She seemed to have subverted all their expectations. Some were expecting a guy or someone from overseas. There was disappointment too.She craned her neck, trying to find whoever had just arrived. Their scent was like the fresh air of high altitudes and dense forests. Then the small crowd of the corridor parted, revealing a girl with blonde hair. There was something about her scent and the way she walked. This girl wasn’t human. She wasn’t a vampire either, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. It scared her. 

“Hi,” the girl beside her came forward, “I’m Sana.” 

The new student raised her eyebrows. “Hi.” 

The woodsy scent was coming to the forefront, but Momo found that she wasn’t hungry, but calm. 

“Where’s your first class? Maybe we’re going in the same direction and we can show you the way.” 

“We?” she repeated. 

Sana turned to her. “This is Momo.” 

The girl didn’t respond, only looked between the two of them. “First is Chemistry, 5D.” 

She beamed. “Great, you and I are classmates.”

Momo caught her leaning in, as though to hook their arms, before quickly pulling back. For good reason, but she didn’t miss the new girl regarding Sana with a raised brow. 

“So where are you from?” she asked, breaking the silence before it could arise.

“I was in England.” 

She couldn’t hear an accent. “But you’re from here?”

“Yes.” She was looking around the hall, meeting the glances of the other students with a furrowed brow. 

Not great at hiding things. Momo’s amusement rose even more when she saw some agape mouths here and there. 

“We’re here.” Sana’s energy was nothing unexpected, but it seemed even brighter. 

“Thank you.” A pause. Then she did a hasty half bow. “Sunbaes.”

A laugh. “Don’t call us that, we’re in the same class.”   


She looked more puzzled. “Then what do I say?”

“Unnie of course, if you’re so convinced you’re younger than us.” 

Momo could barely contain her smile at the hidden meaning of the words. The other girl still looked confused. 

“How long were you in Europe? We’re Japanese and even we know those words.” 

The girl let out a huff. It was hardly a laugh, but the scent in the air became stronger. So did the feeling of calm. “They just don’t use formalities like that.” Then she ducked into the classroom. 

Sana immediately turned to Momo. The only sign of her confusion was an edge in her eyes. Momo shook her head in response. They said goodbye before Sana went in after the new girl. 

_______

Mina gave Sana a small smile when she walked in. She sat in the rear end of the middle, in front of the new girl. Said girl was looking out the window with a surprisingly forlorn expression. Homesick?

“Who’s sitting there?” Sana pointed to the pencil case beside Mina. 

“Chaeyoung.” She tilted her head back. “But the spot next to Dahyun is free.” 

Sana was relieved she didn’t have to ask the girl her name. She wasn’t so glad that she had to sit next to her. Just walking beside her the woodsy scent carried, which would have been normal if it didn’t change in strength from one second to the next. The sense of calm she was feeling wasn’t natural either. 

She sat down, resisting the urge to hold her breath. The latter didn’t respond, her eyes still glued to the distance. She held herself upright, but there was a clear fatigue in her eyes. A very familiar one. 

“So this is the talk of the school?” Tzuyu leans on Sana’s side of the desk. “You two really brought her status up.” 

“What do you mean?” Dahyun turned her head. She could have sworn the girl’s brow twitched, but that was all the response there was. 

“Popularity by association,” she replied. “Everyone was about to drop you because of your height, but then Sana-unnie brought you back up.” 

“It’ll pass.” The girl turned away. 

Mina looked from Tzuyu to Sana. A silence came over them, neither of them knowing how to break it. Sana knew she certainly wanted to, but she didn’t feel like she should. She felt shy. That should have been the first sign that something was wrong. 

_____

There was so much curiosity in the air. It turned the school gold, a happy contrast to how uncomfortable Dahyun felt. Each time she looked away from the colours, she saw her fellow students. The new student allure wasn't going to fade on her first day, she knew that much, but the stares were unbearable. They held questions that no one asked. She wished the silence around her would be broken. 

She finally made it to the staircase. One boy nudged his friend, nodding. They quickly looked away when they realised she’d seen them. She felt guilty, but their embarrassment was a welcome change. 

“First day going okay?” Momo appeared beside her. 

Dahyun gripped the staircase railing. She hadn’t heard the girl approach. Was it the underlying chatter of the school? “Yes.” They walked together into the second floor hallway. It was just as full as the one below. There was some irritation among the students now. Jealousy?

“Know where you’re going?” The taller girl was unaffected by the attention. 

Dahyun made a mental note to ask her how she did it. That is, if she ever got to know her better. There was something about her and a few others here. She’d been warned that Korea would have different magic than she was used to. She hadn’t expected it to make her nervous in addition to uneasy. 

“Yes.” They passed a couple who seemed to have just realised their feelings for one another. She felt uplifted at the sight. Then she realised she was being rude again. “Thank you for checking,” she said, “Unnie.” It would take time to get used to that. She wasn’t close to being the youngest here. 

Momo laughed. “What class are you going to?” 

“Physics.” The fact that this school let them choose their classes was a blessing. 

“Really? Do you also do Biology?” Her humour shone orange. 

“Yes.”

“I have a friend who does the same.”

She was still walking beside her. Dahyun figured she wasn’t being that unbearable. She hoped she wasn’t. There was a surge of anger, then shock, and relief. It was all coming from downstairs. She could make out the raised voices of an argument, but she tuned them out. 

Instead she decided to further the conversation. “Who?”

“Chaeyoung.”

“I know her,” Dahyun said, “the only one I’ve seen to be shorter than myself.” She felt a burst of surprise from Momo. Did she say the wrong thing? 

The corner of the girl’s lip quirked up. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” 

Dahyun passed one door, but she saw that Momo was no longer beside her. 

“I thought you knew where you were going.” She leant against the doorframe, a smile spreading across her face. 

Her cheeks warmed. “I thought I did.” The few steps back were made worse by the fact that Momo’s amusement never faded. 

“Right,” she pursed her lips, “next time, just ask.” With a softer smile, she waved her hand in front of her. “You first.”

“Thanks.” She brushed past her and into the classroom. Most of the stares were directed past her. More than one of the students seemed to be rendered shy by Momo’s presence. All of them were enamoured by her. 

She saw Chaeyoung with a warm smile. No one was beside her. Dahyun took that seat. 

_______  
Even though she was sitting a few rows in front of her, Dahyun’s scent was the most potent in the room. It was fresher now, as if rain had just fallen. Momo had spent the morning wracking her memory for the last time she encountered supernaturals that weren’t vampires. Werewolves usually smelled like the butcher or the barbecue. The only thing close to the new girl were elves, but none of them had ever made her feel calm with each breath. None of them stood out like a sore thumb in a room of humans. 

She suppressed a sigh, turning her attention to her classmates. She waved hello to the other Chaeyoung. They’d had coffee the other day. It was a great cafe, but the conversation hadn’t been great. Even so, she felt uncomfortable leaving someone hanging out to dry after spending time with them. 

Momo turned her attention to the window, hoping that would clear her mind. She probably shouldn’t dismiss the elf theory immediately. Elves could conceal their ears like vampires could their fangs. A part of her wanted to find an excuse to check the form of Dahyun’s ears. 

_Sana could do it,_ she thought. 

“Momoring!” Someone sat down next to her. 

“Morning to you too.” She grinned at Nayeon. She could hear her heart pounding, but Nayeon never ran to class. “What’s new?”  


“Sana broke up with Joo-Hwan.”   


“And she made a scene,” Jeongyeon added. She sat behind them.   


“Where?”   


“Hallway.” Nayeon grimaced. “I almost felt bad for him.”   


“That makes one of us,” Jeongyeon retorted. “No one expected that to last long.”  


A week. If even that. Unlike Momo, Sana was open to relationships. Like Momo, she went through people quickly. Unlike Momo, she dropped them without a lot of thought.   


“I had hope,” she said with a grin.   


They both laughed, unaware that the people around them were hanging on to their every word. Momo sent a wink to the most eager eavesdroppers. They blushed. Momo had to admit, she did like the popularity. Perhaps that was the reason she liked being in high-school and college. Something about her really did love the attention. She also didn’t want a full-time job.   


_______  
Dahyun took in a deep breath. Finally, the day was over. She was free. 

_More or less,_ she thought, leaning her head back against the tree. The forest she’d found paled in comparison to home, but each second there was a gift.   


She dug her fingers into the earth. It was still damp from the rains. She had exchanged her school uniform for her normal attire: a loose fitting grey tunic that didn’t take to dirt readily unless induced to. Beside her was a discarded coat. Like her clothes, it was too restrictive, but she needed it to blend in. There would be little chance of her ever wearing her clothes in public, but she had seen enough of modern fashion to know she wouldn’t look completely out of place.   


_Out of place_. She smiled at the thought. Being in a human school again had shown her that this was something she shared with almost all of her fellow students. They were all nervous in some way, of what she could only guess. Those who seemed the most comfortable were also the ones she didn’t trust. Chaeyoung, Tzuyu, Momo, and Sana. There were also a few other girls who seemed to know those four. Dahyun felt the same unease with them.   


She sighed. If she possessed the senses of a werewolf, she could know what they were. She only knew one thing: they were immortal. There was a sadness that Dahyun recognised. In most immortal beings, it was buried deep, but in others it would come to the forefront. It appeared as a dark shade of blue, like that of the sky just before night turns it black. Usually it could go unnoticed, but Dahyun found it crept up on her when her attention went to her own emotions or if she was alone. Just her luck that both conditions were met as she sat there in the forest.   


Standing up, she pulled on the coat. Her clothes were damp. Before she left the forest, she took a long look at the trees. She felt no presence around her. She saw no figure passing between the branches.   


The route to the human home was not far, but she decided she would take the wrong turn. It would be better to know these grounds before they figured out where she was. Before they came after her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is also on Asianfanfics, but recently I had trouble uploading a chapter and now I'm a tad paranoid.  
> For clarification: 
> 
> Dahyun is a fairy, while the rest of Twice are vampires.


	2. She's different

Sana scowled at the book in her hands. She’d scanned its pages for anything that could tell her what Dahyun was. There was nothing. At least, nothing interesting. The other covens told tales of elusive individuals with strange scents and gentle beauty, but she knew all that already. 

She fought the urge to throw the book across the room. Not one of the diaries, letters, or archives could tell her anything specific. There weren’t any accounts of fighting, not even when a vampire fed on one of them. They just disappeared. And there was something on weirdly coloured objects, but that could have been anything. Maybe they were like dragons and hoarded treasure. She had nothing to go off of. 

“Can we go?” Nayeon got up, leaving her own book open on the table. Jeongyeon wouldn’t like that. 

“Yes.” Sana stuffed the book in the nearest shelf. Jeongyeon really wouldn’t like that. “Find anything?”

“Nothing.” 

She shrugged. “At least that says something about her.” Would she disappear as well if threatened? Or was this going to be the start of something new? 

Nayeon shook her head. “But why would she be here? If you spend your time avoiding people, why come to a high-school?” 

They went into the living room, heading towards the kitchen. All of them lived together in a house just large enough for them. They had to share rooms and really squeeze in if they were in the mood for a movie night (which was often), but it was home. Modern building standards didn’t let them spread out like they had in other countries, but they’d done their best with what they could do. 

“Then she’s different.” Sana dug around in the fridge. She drew out two blood bags, tossing one in Nayeon’s direction. 

“How can you tell?” The other girl’s eyes glowed a soft blue as she drank. Sana knew her own were purple. This was a good batch. 

She couldn’t stop the smile. “She’s easy to read.” Even if she wasn’t responsive to most people, her expressions gave everything away. Boredom, interest, nervousness—it was like Sana could read her emotions. She liked it. 

“Talking about the new girl?” Chaeyoung bounded over. “Is she next?” 

Sana shook her head. A part of her wondered if that was a lie. 

“Good, for all we know, you could be flirting with the enemy.” Laughter followed. 

“Speaking of,” Jeongyeon gave her a meaningful look, “Joo-Hwan thinks you broke up with him for Irene.” 

“Can’t say I blame him.” Her smile grew. 

Nayeon’s eyebrows shot up. “No.”

“Yes.”

“For someone so old, you have no patience.” Chaeyoung laughed. 

At that moment, Mina entered the kitchen. Her brow was furrowed and the tension in her shoulders was clear. 

“Hungry?” They all asked. It wasn’t just that, they knew it. 

The girl smiled softly. “Starving.”

Chaeyoung was the first to reach the fridge, while Nayeon wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Mina leant into the hug. Pretty soon, she was sandwiched between two people when Chaeyoung came with the blood bag. The shortest of them pressed her lips lightly to Mina's temple. Both smiled the same sweet smile. Sana felt a light pang in her chest at the sight. 

“Can I stay in tomorrow?”

She was met with a chorus of voices telling her, “Of course!”. 

Then the conversation, thankfully, went to something other than Sana’s relationship habits.

_____  
When Momo got back to the house, she heard the soft sounds of the TV. If they could avoid it, the thing was always on a lower volume. Especially if they were watching horror movies. Jump-scares were a nightmare on sensitive ears. It wasn't that they couldn't tolerate loud sounds, or else they'd have never survived the invention of speakers. It was just more comfortable if everything was at a more comfortable volume. 

Tzuyu glanced up from her computer. “How was it?” She returned her gaze to it immediately after.

“Nice.” 

Now she looked up. “You go out with the prettiest girl of the school, and you say it was nice?” 

Nayeon appeared beside her. “Momo didn’t go out with me.” 

“Irene,” Momo rolled her eyes, “is a great person. Just not what I’m looking for.” They had a lot of things in common, like a hatred for their history teacher, but things weren’t clicking in the relationship department. 

Whatever movie they were watching was paused. When Momo looked over, she saw the still image of Captain America and Iron Man. The other girls bounded over. 

“You got to her too?” Jeongyeon looked like she was in shock. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Rumour has it, Sana’s moving on with Irene.” 

Momo couldn’t stop her laughter. They’d long moved past the fact that they sometimes ended up falling for the same person. In almost all cases, jealousy never came into the mix. Few people ever understood it, let alone the people in the middle of the love triangle. 

“When did you ask her out?” Nayeon asked. “No one was talking about that today.” She shot Sana a look. 

“After school. We’re working on a presentation.” 

“You’re still working on it? Isn’t it gonna be awkward?” Sana looked horrified. 

“Not if you let a person down easy.” 

“Ouch.” She placed a hand over her chest. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

“The guy was listening to sad songs all day,” said Jeongyeon. 

“He’ll get over it?” 

“Not if he sees you hanging on Irene’s arm.” 

“Anyway,” Sana raised a hand, “are you hungry? Jihyo made a really great pasta.” 

Momo shook her head. 

A gasp. “You didn’t.” 

“I didn’t! We had pizza.” A pause. “Don’t give me that look.” It wasn’t as though she’d never drunk from a human—definitely not. She was more on the lazy side now that they could get their blood in bags. Nayeon, Jihyo and Jeongyeon had worked hard to get a blood system for them. It involved shares from a number of blood donation services and hospitals. Momo hadn’t really bothered to find out how exactly they’d managed to do it. Connections to vampire doctors? She wondered if that would be considered drug dealing.

“Sana’s only asking because she would’ve done it.” Chaeyoung grinned. 

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t have also,” Momo muttered.

Her smile widened. “I’m not.” 

The thought of blood did tug at her throat. They could eat human food to drive down most of their hunger. Of course, if they didn’t drink for long enough, they would start to feel the effects of true hunger.

“Alright, I’ll join in, if I get a bag as well.” 

Nayeon nodded and took out a blood bag. Momo tore off the top. She took a sip, feeling her body warm as she drank. Then she remembered something. 

“Right, Dahyun went to the forest today.” She’d looked more at ease than in school. Her clothes were a weird grey colour. It blended in with the forest, but in a way that didn’t make any sense. At least not in Momo’s eyes. She knew there was magic that could cloak you, but it didn't change how you perceived a shade like grey. 

The girls looked at her. 

“You went to the forest with Irene? How romantic.” In spite of the humour, Sana’s eyes betrayed her interest. 

“We didn’t, but on my way back I saw her run out.” 

“She wanted to go for a walk?” Nayeon suggested. 

“She wasn’t wearing shoes.” Even when her feet had met the rough pavement, her swift movements were undisturbed. Very different from the stiff posture she’d had walking through the halls. Outside, she moved with grace. 

“One with nature type of gal?” said Sana. 

Mina frowned. “Maybe she is.” She looked up from her hands. “She does stare out the window a lot.” 

“What does that leave us with? Nymph, sprite, maybe werewolf?” Nayeon rested her elbows on the kitchen counter. 

“Someone should check her ears,” Sana said. “Tell her to stop hiding them.” Her expression was serious. Did she intend to compel her to do it? 

Momo was surprised by how alike they thought. Was that a result of living together for centuries? 

“Do you know how weird that will look? Even if you manage to get her to do it, what if you can’t erase her memories?” Tzuyu crossed her arms. 

“She’ll just do this,” Sana brushed a few locks of hair behind her ear, “won’t think much of it.” 

“And the people around you? I don’t think you’ll be getting her alone any time soon.” 

"She winked. “I’ll figure something out.” 

_____  
Dahyun was lost. She’d spent ten minutes looking for the library, but had no luck. The signs directed her to the third floor, but the building was so huge she couldn’t regain her bearings. Being inside confused her. It had already been difficult when the humans had started with their sprawling cities, even worse when they built their castles, but now they had turned mazes into concrete and plaster. 

She’d tried finding where people were feeling most peaceful or most stressed, but that usually led her to the odd classroom or alcove-type location in the school. A part of her wanted to give up and go to lunch, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d eaten her food too quickly just so that she could spend her free time exploring this monstrosity. At least the bloated feeling in her stomach had lessened. 

She rounded a corner, hoping that this time she would see a sign that said “Library”. Maybe she should have gone to orientation. She quickly dismissed that thought. It was better that she'd arrived as suddenly as she did. Talk would have spread through the student helpers and maybe even the teachers. Humans were shockingly social creatures. That meant they spread information between themselves very quickly and easily. Was it called gossip? 

Regardless, she doubted she would’ve been able to make the journey here safely when the school year started. Besides, the route to the library was a puzzle she wanted to figure out. 

Dahyun stopped at a windowsill and leant against it. She made sure to take out her phone so that people wouldn’t think she was staring off into space. She had hardly used the device unless it was to research an unfamiliar term or custom. 

After making sure she'd opened some set of text, she made the emotional world push away the physical world. When she was younger, the vibrancy of emotions had overwhelmed her. It was like looking up at the night sky and being taken aback by the scale. She still hadn’t gotten used to the sight of something that spread out before her. Infinitely. 

She looked for calm within the school. It was a blue cloud. Unlike sadness, however, it was pale and warm, not cool and dark. This library didn’t seem to have people who were relaxed. There were remnants of a calm that had accumulated over the years, but only a few people had been in there and truly enjoyed it. 

_What a shame_ , she thought. When she'd last been in this world, as well as on her way here, human libraries had always been places of absolute tranquility. She'd thought it was fitting that her favourite place in the human world was composed of the same elements that made up a forest. 

She let herself be drawn in and allowed her own calm to seep into the cloud. Maybe if she was there more often, it could become a place of rest from the bustle of school. Maybe all of these stressed students would realise that you can learn without losing yourself to stress. 

A golden glow was forming to her immediate right. It was directed at her. Deep within it was dark blue, but that was surrounded by a playful combination of emotions. It was an immortal.

The halls of the school came back full force as she wrenched herself out of the emotional world. She blinked a few times and found that she had not been staring at her phone as she’d wanted to. The screen had gone dark too. 

“Hey.” Someone touched her arm. 

She jumped. The person was Sana. She had a gentle smile, but Dahyun wasn’t sure what to make of her. All of the gossip in the school seemed to surround her and her group of friends. Who was dating who to what they were wearing. Both Momo and Sana were the centre of the former question. In addition to not having an understanding for dating, Dahyun didn't understand why they would want so much attention. They were not human. More attention meant greater risk. Perhaps they were witches. From what Dahyun had seen of them, they loved the attention. It had something to do spells and their power. 

“You okay?” Sana asked, tilting her head to the side. Orange flickered around her. She was amused. 

Dahyun nodded.

“Tired?” She moved to sit on the windowsill beside her. “First few days are intense. Especially if you have to catch up.” The girl was looking at her oddly. Like she was searching for something. Had the illusions on herself failed? She concentrated on the cloaking magic, only to find that it was perfectly stable. Was Sana looking at _her_ specifically? She couldn't imagine why. Unless she suspected something. 

“Yes,” Dahyun said, “there’s a lot.” The biggest difficulties she had were with history. There was so much she had missed. Two massive wars and a wave of smaller, yet still intensive, conflicts. That was only on the international scale. 

“Need any help?” she asked. “I’m not the best at science, but for the rest I’m your girl.” Then she smiled. It was a warm smile. Smiling was something Dahyun struggled to force. She'd smiled when she was at home, of course, but now it was difficult. 

“Thank you.” Dahyun pulled away from the windowsill. “But I’m alright.” 

Then she remembered something from yesterday. Something the other girl, Momo, had told her. _Next time, just ask._

“I can’t find the library.” 

Sana’s surprise did not show on her face. Dahyun was left marvelling at her ability to conceal her emotions and wondering why asking for help was unexpected. Momo had made it seem like it was normal. 

“Follow me.” She did that movement again. Like she wanted to step closer to her, but thought against it mid-step. Dahyun was glad. Physical contact was still something she was unaccustomed to. Especially in the ways she had seen among humans. “So why the library?” 

They started walking in the opposite direction she had been going.“It’s nice.” 

“I thought you’d never been before.” Sana raised an eyebrow. Orange humour appeared again.

“I meant libraries in general.”

“I know.” 

_Then why make such a comment?_ Dahyun nearly said it aloud, but perhaps it had been a sarcastic remark. 

There was that look again. Sana's eyes flickered away from her, then a bright smile spread out across her face. “Hey.” She waved to a beautiful girl who walked past. One Dahyun recognised from her Literature class. The girl waved back and Dahyun sensed shyness in her. She didn’t get an uneasy feeling from her. Not immortal.

They walked to the central part of the hall. There was a tall glass double door. There wasn’t any sign save for the opening and closing times. Dahyun saw books way off in the distance, hidden behind rows of tables where students were working. 

“Here we are.” Sana turned to face her fully. “Do you want a tour?” 

“Thank you, but I’m alright.” She shook her head. A burst of humour and golden curiosity came from Sana then. What had she done wrong now? 

“Oh,” her eyes snapped to the top of her head, “you’ve got something there.” 

Before Dahyun could ask what she meant, Sana tugged something out of her hair. She felt a tingling sensation along her scalp. It sent light shivers down her spine. She stopped herself from frowning. It was magic. Was this girl a witch?

“Got it.” She held up a fragment of a leaf. Then she tucked some hair behind her ears. Dahyun felt another shiver. Not magic that time. “That’s better, don’t you think?” Sana held her gaze for a moment. “Not hiding those ears?” 

The phrasing was so off. Dahyun felt unease pooling in her stomach. 

“Perhaps.” She stepped away, making for the door. She didn’t miss the wave of shock felt by Sana. There was also a great amount of uncertainty. Dahyun should have wondered about the reason why then, but she just wanted to get in the library. If the girl was trying to intimidate her, it worked. Should she leave? Find a different school? She may not have been a pursuer of Dahyun, but that didn't mean she could be trusted. 

Dahyun opened the door. Sana hadn’t moved from her spot. When the door closed behind her, she let out a slow breath. She couldn’t leave. She needed to be here. It would be so much easier if she didn’t have to show her face. So much easier if she could avoid the human world. Not for the first time—and definitely not for the last time—Dahyun wished she could make people forget about her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, but if someone told me not to hide my ears, I'd be a little bit hesitant as well. 
> 
> Things are certainly in their awkward stages here, but they do develop past that! 
> 
> If there are any questions regarding the magic system with Dahyun's abilities, don't hesitate to ask!


	3. Grey

Days passed and Dahyun had not spoken more than a handful of words to Momo or Sana. Even if they sat with her in class, the most they’d get out of her would be a “yes” or “good” in response to their questions. She was surprisingly quick to leave class making no secret about wanting to avoid talking to them. Momo had seen her talking to Irene and her friends. For longer than ten seconds too. Mina had also been able to talk to her, but the Dahyun hadn't said much of note. She also didn't smile much and if she did, it was false. 

“I was so dumb,” Sana groaned. It had been a week after she'd 'checked out' Dahyun’s ears. 

“Not dumb,” Momo replied. “Just not subtle.” She felt like she carried some of the blame for that. She definitely felt the force of the consequences. Something about Dahyun ignoring her made her feel weird. It was like she was missing out on something incredible. 

“It was kinda dumb,” Nayeon said. 

Sana sighed, running a hand through now pink hair. When the humans had come up with extravagant hair dye, Sana had jumped on it. Every time the year turned cold, she’d get a bright colour, saying she was calling to the spring. 

“You’ve said worse.” Momo patted her arm. 

The other girl looked at her for a moment. Then she laughed. 

“What did you say after Mina turned you?” Jihyo leaned forward. “‘Now I know why you’re so shy?’”

Mina shook her head. “‘I bet I could've made your heart beat again.’”

Momo held on to her stomach as she laughed. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t love it!” Sana tried defending herself. “I was trying to make light of the situation. I couldn’t resist.” 

“Like you couldn’t resist asking me if I wanted to grab a bite?” Nayeon raised her eyebrows. 

“That was Momo.” 

“You let us join you, so I count that as a win,” she retorted. 

Nayeon just smiled. She didn’t have to say it, but Momo knew she would have said that it was. Their coven was a close as a family, if not closer. It was a goal that Nayeon and Jihyo had pursued since the day they were first turned, having lacked it in their first coven. It was one that didn’t value human life any more than humans did cattle. They hated it. After escaping that coven, they ran, finding Jeongyeon when she most needed them and turning her. After that, Tzuyu came along. She was a runaway vampire from the place that was now called Taiwan and she found her home with the girls. Chaeyoung was a witch before, but after coming into conflict with werewolves she’d tried to save from the lunacy of the moon, she was left to die. In their attempts to avoid an unexpected conflict with the same wolves, the growing coven had been following the trail of the pack. When they found Chaeyoung, Jihyo hadn’t left time for debate. She'd turned her. Apparently, they’d had an extended discussion with Chaeyoung afterwards, which included Jihyo constantly apologising for not asking her permission. It had taken some time, but Chaeyoung had eventually warmed to the idea of her immortality. 

Momo and Sana, on the other hand, had also been witches. Their coven had gotten into a messy conflict with vampires and survived, but escaped without their coven. Sana had been bitten, but Momo had stayed with her as they escaped. Mina had come across them after they arrived in her village. She said she’d help Sana with her transition and offered to turn Momo. She’d agreed. They became a coven of three, but when tensions in Japan rose and with it anti-vampiric sentiments among the other supernaturals, they’d fled to Korea. There they’d gone into hiding, taking refuge among other Japanese vampires who’d escaped before them. The vampire community, being the way it was, had been unstable. There'd been in-fighting and the three of them were forced onto the streets once again. When they’d come across Nayeon and Jihyo’s coven, they were distrustful. Not only were they from different backgrounds, but they were at a disadvantage in terms of both age and numbers. They’d run away from them.

The larger coven had followed them, not sure if they were friendly, in need of a helping hand, or foe. The Japanese vampires had been so paranoid that they’d planned an ambush on them, just so they could scare them away. They’d been set on severely hurting at least one of theirs. That was when the full moon had come. Mina, Sana and Momo had been hunting, trying to find one stray human who wouldn’t be missed to share between them. They'd wanted to get their strength up before taking on the other coven. That human had turned out to be a werewolf. He also wasn’t alone. Sana and Momo had nearly gotten themselves killed by trying to save Mina from getting torn to pieces. It wasn't always the case, but the full moon had gotten to her even more than the others that time around. Momo had been prepared to go down when the rest of the pack arrived. That was when the first werewolf was downed. Behind him stood Chaeyoung, a girl who didn’t look like she could down a werewolf, but had in one blow. Long story short, they were saved by the larger coven. It hadn’t taken long for them to join it. 

She leaned over to Sana and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Sana patted her head. It might have been a long time ago, but she remembered that day perfectly. She could still feel the pain of her injuries. She could still feel the fear gripping her chest, the fear that she’d lose her life—family— a second time. 

That had all started about four centuries ago. It was hard to believe there’d been a time before they’d known each other and even harder that Momo hadn’t trusted more than half of them once. The seven girls were her family. She couldn’t imagine a life without them. 

______  
The ignoring tactic wasn’t working. If anything, it had the opposite effect in making eight people even more curious. Dahyun couldn’t figure out if the other emotions were distrust or if they were just eager to finally solve whatever mystery surrounded her. She was also feeling a strange fatigue. It had started when she was walking to the school. It was as if the days were catching up with her. She felt drained. 

She walked into class, relieved that most of the attention surrounding her had lessened. Only the girls around the place she sat looked up, as if they'd known she was coming. That likely meant enhanced senses. Dahyun had always found it unfair that her kind seemed to have the worst of the augmented senses. 

“Good da–I mean, good morning,” she said. 

The surprise was comical. Chaeyoung couldn’t stop it from appearing on her face, Mina raised her eyebrows, but Sana just looked at her. It almost made Dahyun feel shy, but she held the girl's gaze. 

“Hey,” they all said. 

She sat down, unsure of what else to say, so she didn’t say anything. At least she'd greeted them. That was a start, wasn’t it?

The teacher launched into a discussion on acids and their properties. Dahyun felt her discomfort fade away. It was at times like these where she was able to shut out the emotional world and just listen. Whenever she had anything to do with the human discipline of science, she got a wonderful buzzing feeling in her head. She admired the humans endlessly for their pursuit of knowledge about the natural world. There was so much she and her people didn’t know about the universe, they only ever cared about magic. In the sense of distancing themselves from the physical world, her clan had been the absolute worst. 

Her thoughts were broken when she felt eyes on her. When she met Sana’s gaze, she felt like she was being studied. 

The girl leant forward until her chin brushed her shoulder. It was too close, but Dahyun didn't lean away.

“Sorry about last week,” Sana whispered. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

What could she say to that? Acknowledge that the other girl knew something and that Dahyun had caught on to something as well? That was likely not the way to go. 

“It’s alright.” Dahyun focused on the girl's pink hair. It reminded her of her friends. How they would always cast charms on one another, turning their hair or skin into the strangest of colours. Paired with her character, she could have passed for a fairy. The reminder tugged at the emptiness in her chest. She met the girl's gaze again. 

She gave her a look. “Sure.” 

Without the help of her ability, Dahyun couldn’t figure out what that expression meant, but she sensed doubt. She just shrugged and turned her attention back to the teacher. The topic was bases. They were going to do an experiment next class. She was looking forward to that. 

Then class ended. she was slower this time as she packed up. If she wanted to show them she was taking a different approach, then she might as well put in the effort. 

“How does this school compare with your old one?” Sana asked. 

They were all packed at the same time she was. Was that intentional or just a natural progression of packing up? She couldn’t tell. 

She’d done her research on British schools in case the question ever came up. Now she just had to make sure she told the same thing to Sana that she had to Mina. “There’s more work than I’m used to.” Not a lie. “But they also wore a uniform at the school I went to, so I was used to this.” Definitely a lie. She found the tie constricting so she intentionally loosened it when ever she could. In fairness, she found most of the human clothes too restrictive. 

“You don’t think these are too restrictive?” Mina asked. “Some people always complain that they can’t wear what they want.” They walked out of class together.

Dahyun shrugged. “It’s nothing terrible. A few hours in the day and then you can wear what you want.” She adjusted her sleeves. She’d rolled those up as well. After seeing how the other students wore their uniforms, it became clear that the teachers didn’t care much about what they did. It just mattered that they showed up and didn’t make this part of their day hard. Dahyun could do that. Easily. 

“Right.” Sana nodded, a light smile on her face. 

She let the emotional world colour her vision a bit. It was more difficult than it should have been. The air around Sana was being tinged with orange. There was no malice in the humour, so she wasn’t exactly making fun of her. If not that, then what was so funny about Dahyun? 

“Did you change your hair?” Chaeyoung asked. 

Dahyun’s hand went to her head. Had her illusions weakened again? “I, uh, bleached it again. Is it bad?”

“No,” Sana tilted her head to the side, “but it is whiter. So if you were going for that, it worked.” She gave her a gentle smile. Dahyun took it to be a silent reassurance. 

“Thank you.” She nodded. “I,” she trailed off, realising what exactly Sana had said her hair looked like, “will see you all later.” 

With that, she hurried to the restrooms. She made sure she went through the right door. She hadn’t known the difference between them on her first day. That had led to a very embarrassing series of “Sorry” and “Wrong room”. Restrooms themselves were strange. She understood why they existed, but that did not mean she hadn't been extremely confused when she'd first encountered a toilet. 

She took in her reflection. What should have been a subtle gold was bone white. That meant sickness.

Another girl came in. Dahyun smiled at her before she went out. She didn’t want to also be seen as someone obsessed with her reflection. She touched her hair again. It didn’t feel any different. Was this related to why she was so tired? She hadn’t been using her abilities much. Was it the sheer amount of emotion she'd been exposed to? Perhaps that was the case. 

She left the school later today. There had been an assignment she needed to turn in. She’d done her citations wrong. Apparently that was a big mistake in the human world. What little literature her people produced had brief credits. Their numbers were limited so each knew what was meant. As long as the individual had done any research of note, their name would be enough. Never did they need to ascribe the text a date or location. That sort of thing mattered little if the culture was immortal and nomadic. 

The tiredness still hadn’t left her. If anything, it had strengthened. Her body was still in good condition, but even being around someone who was more nervous or happy made her feel even more tired. She was absorbing more as well. It left her with a cocktail of mixed emotions. Something that always made her disoriented. 

She stopped by her place first, changing into her looser clothes. She checked her reflection before she left. Her hair was still white. So white her hairline almost blended into her skin. If her hair was back to normal after a day, she’d have to tell the girls that she had bleached her hair again. They were observant. Certainly watching her for any giveaways, just as she was them. 

Something wasn’t right with the forest. Unease seeped into her mind as she walked towards it. She felt cold. Bringing the emotional world down felt like she’d over-stretched a muscle. This couldn't be the result of fatigue eating away at her. 

“I knew you’d come here,” a melodic voice said. The air was singed with orange, but not a gentle one like that of Momo or Sana. This was proper mockery. “You’re predictable.” There was a dark grey mist over the yellows and reds of the forest. Grey meant fear. How was it present in such quantities here?

“And you’re slow.” Dahyun drew on the calm of the forest. It soothed her pounding heart. Then she let the emotion that was at the forefront in her mind take form in her hands. She didn’t look down, but she knew the object would be a dull gold. Her confusion of the day. 

“Why here?” Helen frowned. “Even if your features matched, you couldn’t last long with humans if you tried.” The corner of her mouth tilted up. "None of your kind could." 

Dahyun tried to adopt a mindset of clarity. Helen wasn’t the most powerful fairy. She must be bait. And yet Dahyun was certain they were alone in the forest. Cloaking magic might have clouded her judgement, but she always knew if someone was near. 

“You hid yourself well.” 

A smile. It looked genuine, but the other fae's emotions told a different story. “I’m glad it worked.” Helen raised a hand, her fingers curled around an object Dahyun didn't recognise.

The air around her constricted. It happened before she could push against it or shield herself. Or rather, she was unable to do any such thing. She could only watch as the grey mist coalesced around her, glittering as it passed from one layer of reality into the next. Fear. Moving in a purposeful manner. 

It was impossible. Helen was an elemental fae. Only those like Dahyun could see the other world. Even fewer could exercise their control over it. 

Grey fear pulled the ground out from under her. The same fear she felt of heights, she felt now. The dizziness made her feel like she was falling sideways. She gripped her blade so tight she felt it cut into her skin. The pain gave her something to hang on. She wouldn’t lose herself. Yet. 

She couldn’t breathe. All hope of staying calm had disappeared. She couldn’t scream. It came out as a high-pitched breath. She felt the earth under her hands. Her blood was warm, a great contrast to the cold fall air. Only once before had she seen so much fear in one place—and it had gone into one person. Memories flooded her mind. Regret came with it, as well as rage. She wasn't going to die today. 

“To tell you the truth, I’m rather surprised that worked.” Helen’s face came into view. Her eyes gleamed blue.

Dahyun raised her uninjured hand, as if reaching out to grab her. Her hand was shaking. Helen twisted her wrist with an iron grip. She almost expected it to break with the sudden force. She wondered why the girl wasn’t using her abilities. Dahyun had had some experience fighting elemental fae, but she had little skill with combatting flames. Was this Helen's trust in the new magic? Or her pride? 

“You’ve gotten soft.” She was only looking at her face, her victory streaming out into the world like a star.

 _And you’re still arrogant,_ Dahyun thought. She might have been terrified, but there was enough anger in her that she could fight it. 

She struggled to get her one hand away, feeling tears prick at her eyes as the muscles were over-extended. She kept going. Helen would be distracted. Tightening her grip around her dagger, she forced the fear she was feeling to elongate the blade of confusion. She saw Helen register the movement, but Dahyun was faster. She drove a dagger of grey and gold into the other girl’s neck. 

The fairy gasped, her eyes widening as she felt the confusion. Her grip on Dahyun's hand slackened. Then she let out a strangled cry as the fear sunk into her. Dahyun felt triumph, but it was immediately followed by shame. Helen's blue eyes locked on her, panicked. Another sob. 

She took the girl’s emotions away, wincing as the fear returned to her. Those blue eyes glazed over as Dahyun gave Helen the tranquility of the forest. There would be no pain with her so deep into the emotion. She would not feel her life as it slipped away. 

Dahyun had not killed in months. The last time she had still haunted her dreams. Too much life had been lost at her hands. Yet she was neither strong, nor skilled in combat. She had her emotions and that was that. And now? Now there was another fae dying at her feet, her body struggling, while her mind was at ease. Dahyun hadn’t made a mistake to kill her. This had been inevitable, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t shaken. 

She needed to search her. Take that terrible token, study it and find out how exactly Helen had been able to tap into powers she had no business having. Or anyone else for that matter, including Dahyun. This was unlikely to be the only token that had harnessed emotions. That thought filled her with dread. 

She first searched the girl for other objects to channel magic. Elementals relied on them more than Dahyun’s clan did. She found one engraved with a location charm, another for communication. She destroyed them, as well as any other objects of note. If one thing was enchanted, who was to say the rest couldn’t also give her location away? Unless it had already been. 

As Dahyun took the final object from her hands, she heard Helen’s last breath. Fairies were left frozen in time when they died. Not like the humans who deteriorated, or vampires who crumbled. 

She avoided looking at the talisman, although it did cause unease to pass through her as she held it. Instead, she forced herself to trace a circle around Helen’s body. Pressing one hand to the earth and another to her forehead, Dahyun sung the words of the funeral rite. The corpse melted into the ground. It would be with her clan. They would grieve her. It would be grief Dahyun had caused. She tried to force the guilt down. She needed to act. To think. 

Helen had been sent in first. And alone. Had she been sent by people who wanted this to happen? Or had they truly thought she would win? Helen certainly had. Dahyun did not want to delve into that thought process further. 

She looked at the talisman. It was a wooden crest with the carving of the moon. Set into the grooves of the wood was the solidified fear. Either someone with her abilities had made this or a spell linked to her abilities had done so. Neither option spoke well for the state of things. Either her clan held a traitor, something that should have been unthinkable, or the other fae had managed to get emotions under some semblance of control. 

Dahyun stood up. She knew she had to clean up the scene. It held her blood and that of Helen’s. She wouldn’t be able to conceal those tests. The knowledge of the humans and their technology was incredible. Yet it had made living in the natural world far more difficult. 

Before she would do that, however, she needed time to recover. She turned away from the blood and stumbled towards a tree. She pressed her forehead to the wood. Her cheeks grew warm as tears flowed down them. She cried for what she had done and for what she had failed to do. She had killed again. Rules had been broken for this magic. The others had achieved the very thing she’d given up everything to prevent.


	4. Save the lies for later

Something was wrong in the air. It had a sour undertone, like rot had rooted its way deep into every tree. Momo almost thought it was because of a corpse in the school. Had one of the supernaturals she didn’t know about fed on someone and left them there to die? She inhaled deeper and nearly cringed. No, definitely not a dead body. Even so, whatever it was, it set her on edge. 

When Dahyun walked in, she watched her, trying not to look too obvious. She found nothing out of the ordinary. If something was wrong, she was pretty sure it would show on Dahyun’s face. The girl couldn’t hide it when she was uncomfortable. Yet the scent was coming from her. 

“Tired?” Dahyun asked, a small smile appearing on her face. The pungent scent disappeared completely. 

“Yep,” Chaeyoung threw her head back, “this has already been the worst day. Only Biology was okay, right Dahyun-ah?”

The scent came back as Dahyun’s eyebrows rose, her lips parted in a small ‘o’. Momo wrinkled her nose. “Right. I’m sorry to hear about the rest.” 

“Don’t be,” the other girl rolled her eyes, “something must’ve happened in the teachers lounge for every one of them to be extra difficult. Mr. Jin made me repeat an equation just because he didn’t believe I solved it so fast.” 

“Plus,” Momo said, “Mr. Song didn’t believe me when I said the dates for the Meiji government takeover. Of all the people to doubt.” She sat back with a slump. Sometimes there were days like that. When almost no one could stand each other. She just hadn’t expected it to be so soon in the year. 

Dahyun sat down and the air cleared completely. The knot in Momo’s stomach lessened immediately. She leaned against the table in front of them, finally relaxing her shoulders. How was Dahyun doing this? Clearly she didn't have complete control over it. 

“Changed your hair again?” It was grey. Momo hadn’t thought that could look good on a person, but she pulled it off. 

“Yes,” another small smile, “I didn’t like the white.” She reached up to touch it, her eyes far away. Momo’s own eyes caught on her hand. A bandage was wrapped around the palm. Maybe that was why the smell was different. She was injured. Questions flooded her mind about how. She also made a note about that information. Dahyun didn’t heal like a vampire did, or even a werewolf, where one cut could heal in less than a minute. Was she half human?

Chaeyoung must have seen it too. “How’d that happen?” As strange as it was, the girl’s scent wasn’t triggering when it came to their thirst. 

“This?” She glanced at her hand before putting it down. Her scent adopted the strange edge to it again. “Cooking accident.” She looked down at her hands. “Dumb mistake.” A small chuckle. The air cleared of the foul scent again. 

She was too emotive. Even when she started speaking again to Chaeyoung yesterday, Momo hadn’t seen her act like this. Her features transformed into something much warmer when she smiled. The expression was always slow to come, though, as if her own muscles were hesitant to smile. 

Before she could ask Dahyun if she was okay, the teacher came in. She went to her spot. As class went by, she wasn’t really paying any attention to the talk on nuclear reactions. She could catch up. Instead, she watched as Dahyun took her notes. She was writing with the hand that hadn’t been burned, but from where Momo sat, she saw that the movements were hesitant. Then she stopped taking notes. 

_____  
Sana was relieved that their Chemistry teacher was in a good mood. The entire day, classes involved spontaneous questions and intense scrutiny, as if every single teacher had had a bad day. And then there was that smell. 

When Dahyun came in, she was smiling. A positive turn of events in itself. Even though her skin had taken on a grey tinge. 

“Ready for the day to end?” she asked as she sat down. 

“Definitely. I hope this class will be chill.” Sana tried not to look at her hands. The girls had already told her and she didn’t want to be caught looking at the girl too closely. She’d try her best to avoid another ear fiasco. 

Dahyun nodded. “I’m sure it will be.” Then her brow twitched, as though she was in pain. 

The teacher stood up, smiling broadly. “You guys in the mood to do some acid-base reactions?”

Everyone nodded. Mrs. Park pulled up a list of what they needed to get. 

“I’ll get it,” she said as she stood up. 

Dahyun paused in mid stance. “You don’t need to do that.” Something about her expression made Sana feel like conceding immediately. 

“It’s a tray of glass. I’ll manage.” She shot her a smile. Then she turned away, not wanting to see that frown for longer than she needed to. 

When she came back, Dahyun was staring out the window, her eyes filled with an intensity Sana had never seen in them before. There were dark shadows under her eyes, even more pronounced than yesterday. The forest had become infested again. She resisted the urge to plug her nose. 

“I got it,” Sana said. 

The fire in the girl’s eyes disappeared. She was almost sorry to see it go, but she was more happy that the weird smell had faded again. 

“Great. Let’s start with the litmus tests.” Dahyun reached out with her bandaged hand, taking one of the dishes out. With her other hand, she grabbed the roll of litmus paper. It slipped from her fingers. 

Sana watched as she tried to pick it up with the same hand. She heard the tiny gasp of pain as her fingers moved slower than they should have. She didn’t comment. 

The experiment was easy. Dip the paper or add a drop of indicator to the different acids and bases. Record the colour change. Mix an acid and a base. Check with the indicators. Record that too. 

Dahyun used only one hand the entire time. She didn’t protest when Sana said she’d write everything down. When they added phenolphthalein to a base, it turned a vibrant pink.

“Just like your hair.” The other girl laughed. It was a beautiful sound. As soon as the sound hit the air, the scent became completely fresh again. 

As Sana smiled at her, she knew that whatever was happening, Dahyun seemed to have control over her own scent. She was compensating for it with jokes and smiles. Whatever she was hiding, it was the reason why everyone was in a bad mood. That is, everyone who wasn’t in the same room as her. That meant the entire school. Whatever she was, she was powerful. 

There was a crash as someone dropped their beaker in the sink. The scent of rot became overpowering. Sana saw the litmus paper falling. Then saw the person who had let it slip from her fingers. The grey-haired girl had sunken into herself, her eyebrows scrunched together, while her eyes looked glassy. Sana could feel her fear as though it was her own. It closed around her chest and she recoiled from the feeling. 

Then Dahyun straightened up, her face smoothing over. The fear disappeared, as did the smell. 

When class ended, Sana packed her things. When she was finished, Dahyun was zipping up her bag. Her brow was furrowed. 

“Are you okay?” 

She slung the bag around her shoulder. “Yes.” With her cut hand, she brushed her hair over one shoulder. It had turned grey and it definitely wasn’t through dye or bleach. Sana would be able to smell that. She could with her own hair. “Have a good day, Sana.” With the smallest of smiles, Dahyun walked out of the room. 

Sana did the same, but she went in the other direction. She needed to find Momo. 

______  
Someone was following her. No, two someones. She could feel the emotions of curiosity and the melancholy of immortality. She couldn’t recognise who they were. Her head was pounding. Every breath was a chore. 

She walked faster, towards a place that was once a haven, but now had a dark memory attached to it. The forest.

This time she took in every detail. She tried to at least. Then, hoping desperately that she hadn’t overlooked a figure between the trees, she continued into the forest. At least here her magic wouldn’t be seen by anyone save those who were following. 

She didn’t feel like they were her enemies, but she didn’t trust her own senses. The plan would be to subdue, not kill. She didn’t want to kill again. 

The next thing she did hurt, but it calmed her. She produced two coils of blue, wisps of what they could have been, but just enough to subdue. The fear had made her so weak. 

Then she found her tree. It was just wide enough to hide behind. She tried to make her steps fall without noise. If they were truly who she thought they were, then this wouldn’t make much of a difference. Perhaps a second or so for her to prepare. Perhaps that was all she needed. Either that, or her fate would be sealed now. She couldn’t tell. 

Reaching out, she pulled at their curiosity, taking it for her own. If she didn’t have to make another object from emotion, she’d have more time until exhaustion hit her. 

The only sound was the slow rustle of leaves as the wind trailed over them. They were too light on their feet. Dahyun closed her eyes and brought the emotional world down. She saw their figures behind her on the left. If she attacked now, would that allow her the advantage? 

Lifting the emotional world, she allowed the aura of the forest to flow into her. It channeled into the blue ropes she held in her hands. She fought back a hiss. Her mind burned. Her vision blurred. Handling calm should never have hurt her this much. 

She clenched her teeth and drew away from the tree. In the same movement, she threw out the ends of the coils, aiming for their throats. She had underestimated their proximity. Allowing the blue to grow, she pushed them forward. Two gasps told her she’d found her marks. She yanked them towards her, feeling a great amount of resistance. They were strong, but her desperation and their shock meant she was able to pull them towards her. 

Her headache grew, but she was emboldened by her initial victory. She drew on more calm, trying to plunge these people into a trance before they could try anything more. Her knees buckled, but she kept upright. The world flashed between layers. She felt the confusion of those she’d ensnared. Then she began to hear their voices. Being so deep into the emotional world, she hadn't been able to hear. 

“Stop!” The word was muffled in her ears. “We’re here to help you.” 

_Don’t lie,_ she thought. Calm filled her as she absorbed the emotions back through her hands, bringing them towards her. She felt cold, as though all the warmth in her body had escaped her. 

“Dahyun—” The rest of the words were drowned out as her mind stumbled back into the emotional world. 

She hadn’t meant to impede her senses. At least she could still see. Somewhat. Her head felt like tearing apart, but she forced her vision to enter physical reality. What she saw startled her. 

Momo and Sana lay at her feet, loosely gripping the bands around their necks. They looked at her with hooded eyes, but they were still lucid. 

“Impossible,” she muttered. Even her own voice sounded distant. She didn’t know if she’d let their coils go or not. 

“It’s us. We won’t hurt you,” Momo murmured. 

“We were worried about,” Sana sighed, tugging on the blue around her neck, “You, and why you smelled weird.” She giggled. “That sounded weird.”

“It’s not safe.” Her legs gave way. She tried to force herself further into the physical world. It hurt. She was slipping. “Leave me.” She didn’t hear herself say the words. All she felt was the earth beneath her, as if it was ready to take her into its embrace. She wished it wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready. 

Dahyun woke up shivering. Her mind felt as though it were raw. She tried to sit up, but her movements were restricted. A blanket had been wrapped tightly around her, but not tight enough that she felt trapped. Lying back down, she closed her eyes, but it did nothing to stop her headache. Behind her eyelids, she saw a mixture of gentle happiness, lingering confusion, and something like nervousness. She wasn’t alone in the house. 

Both of her hands were sore, but she pulled her arms out of the blanket. The bed smelled as though it had been freshly washed. It was much softer than her own. Where was she? She had gone back to her apartment, but didn’t dare sleep there. Helen’s smugness had hung in the air when she got in. The fae had found her 'home' before finding her. Dahyun had then informed the landlord she was moving out. Those preparations would begin Monday. Where she was to go, she didn't know. 

She ran through what she could remember. Momo and Sana had been following her. She had revealed her abilities to them. 

Turning around as best she could, she tried to get out of the bed. Her legs weren’t obeying her. She slid off the bed with a thump, still wrapped in the blanket. 

In an instant, someone appeared in front of her. “Awake already?” 

“How—" Her voice failed her.

“I know,” Sana grinned, “I’m pretty fast.”

“Faster than me.” It sounded absurd to say. 

“You ran away from us, so you’re not bad.” She knelt down beside her. 

Dahyun felt arms go around her. She was lifted back onto the bed. 

“Even for a human you’re light. Are you eating right?” 

“That rhymed.” 

The other girl laughed. “Is this because you slept so long? You’re like a new person. All funny.” 

“How long did I sleep?” Dahyun tried to free herself again. The blanket was tucked in at the worst of places to be free of it.

She looked at her watch. “It’s ten.” A pause. “AM.” 

“Saturday?” It was Friday when she fell unconscious.

Sana shook her head. “Sunday.” 

“I slept a day?” She felt heavy, as though she’d woken up before she was ready. 

She heard a giggle. “I’m kidding. It’s Saturday.” The girl sat on the side of the bed. “Hungry?” 

“No.” She couldn’t stay here. 

The girl gave her a look. “Liar.” The corner of her lip tugged up. “We have leftovers.”

“We?” 

“The other girls and I. You’re in our house.” 

“Why?” She couldn't yet make out the individuals. Both the emotional and physical world felt distant to her in this state.

“You didn’t think that just because you told us to, we’d leave you out there.” Momo appeared at her other side. Dahyun wasn’t unaccustomed to people appearing out of nowhere, but if it was the first supernatural thing she’d seen from her classmates, then it was strange. 

“This isn’t safe.” 

“You said that too.” They both wore expressions she couldn’t read, but they were amused again. They must have the same sense of humour. 

“Why isn’t it safe?” Sana asked. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“I,” her voice faltered again, “I’m not safe to be around.” It wasn’t a lie. She’d never experienced something like this, but if her grip on her emotions truly slipped, these girls could lose themselves to a trance. It was unlikely to be permanent, but it would not be pleasant if they got the wrong emotion. 

“Neither are we, Dahyun-ah.” Momo reached down and tugged on a corner of the blanket. It came undone in an instant. She looked down and saw that she was still wearing her school uniform. Her shoes were off, as was her tie. 

“Come on,” they took her by her arms, avoiding her hands, “let’s eat.” 

She was hauled to her feet and kept in between the two girls. 

“I can walk.” She tried to shake them off, but stumbled in the process. 

“You can try, but you’d break something,” Sana said as they tightened their grips. 

They walked out the door and into an elaborate hall. Sure enough, there were a number of doors. Some were open, revealing bedrooms, each with their own colour schemes. If there were truly eight girls in this house, some must have been sharing rooms. 

She heard voices downstairs, but they masked an overarching buzz of curiosity. Dahyun wasn’t nervous, but she was about to explain herself to eight people. Eight too many. It didn't help that this was a well-lived in house. The human constructs ensured that emotions were tied to the walls. They rarely faded away. There was a lot of happiness and love in this house. A very odd sight. It was almost overwhelming. 

“Doing okay?” Sana asked when she stopped. “I can always carry you.”

She shook her head. Her legs were shaky with each step. She was grateful for their help. When she looked at their emotions, she saw a light blue aura. Guilt gnawed at her. 

“How do you both feel?”

“A little sore around my neck, but I’ll live,” Momo said. 

“I’m sor—“ 

“Kidding,” she said. “But you did know we weren’t human, right?”

“Because that move would’ve broken a normal neck.” Sana shot her a smile. She did that a lot. 

Her face warmed. “I did know.” They reached the ground floor. 

“Anyway,” Sana said, “We still feel relaxed, if that’s what you meant.”

“She’s awake!” someone cried. Chaeyoung came into view. “When the girls came with you in tow, I really thought you were dead.” Her smile faltered. “That is, until I heard your heartbeat. It's really slow, by the way.” 

Enhanced senses. Speed. Immortal. That still didn’t help her figure out what they were. 

“You smelled like a corpse,” said Tzuyu. "Still do, kinda." 

Was that what Sana meant when she said she’d smelled weird? Dahyun must have been frowning, because someone softly squeezed her arm. It was Momo. 

“It’s getting better,” she said. They eased her into a low chair. It was soft. She looked at the house. It was luxurious without being overwhelming. She still felt the unease of being inside, but the large windows to the outside helped. It was raining too, which Dahyun always loved. The girls were either at the kitchen counter or on the sofa beside her chair. All eight looked at her as though she were a fragile thing. She was at the moment. Fear clung to her like wet clothes. She began to shiver again, but she straightened her back, schooling her features into something that wouldn’t give her away.

“Here,” Sana came over, “drink this.” She was holding a mug. “Do you like tea?” 

Dahyun took it, nodding her thanks. 

“We’ll start.” Jihyo clasped her hands together. “We’re a coven, not of witches, but vampires.” 

Vampires. That would explain the allure, as well as how enamoured the other students were with her, but why would they be in school? If she asked that question, she would also have to explain why she was in school. That wasn’t the worst question to ask. It was a question she would tell the truth for. 

“Why stay in high-school?” 

Nayeon shrugged. “We look the part, act the part,” she glanced at some of the girls, including Momo and Sana, “it’s pretty easy living.” 

"Why would you come to school?" Chaeyoung asked. "You don't seem to like the attention." 

Her face warmed. “The last time I was among humans,” she said, “might have been about three hundred years ago. Perhaps more. I was young and hadn't bothered much with what was happening then.” She sipped her tea. It warmed her slightly, but whatever Helen had done to her had sown a deeper cold. “Now, I wanted to know all that I had missed.” 

“So you never went to England.” 

“I did,” she admitted, “just not for school.” The thought of her time there made her stomach clench. That was certainly not a story she would tell today. Would she ever tell it?

Momo arrived with a tray in her hands. The bowl on it was steaming. “I hope you like pasta, because that’s all we have right now.” Without waiting for a response, she set it down on Dahyun’s lap. The smell alone made her mouth water. 

“Thank you,” she said, unsure if she should add any other words to that statement. She ate a bit. It was better than anything she’d prepared for herself. Then again, her diet had never been very extravagant. Nor filling. 

“So,” Sana leaned forward, “will you tell us?” 

Their anticipation rose. Dahyun was tempted to lie. As she thought over the different possibilities, she realised it would be better to save the lies for later. Otherwise they would just accumulate. She didn’t have the ability to handle such an ordeal. 

“I’m a fairy.” She raised a hand to her head. Her ears weren’t pointed. “So yes, when you tried to check, you weren’t wrong about my ears.” Lowering the illusions didn’t hurt. It was only the emotional abilities that were affected. The concealing magic on her skin was still present. Sometimes it faded when she slept, other times she could still keep them up. This was one of them. If it hadn't been the case, she was sure they'd have asked about the scars littering her skin. 

“That’s definitely something you don’t have to hide here.” Sana was smiling. She seemed triumphant, but Dahyun didn’t look too hard. Combing through the emotions also pushed at her pain threshold. 

“What does that mean?” Mina asked. “Are you like the media says you are?” 

“We’ve never been in the news.” 

Momo sat on the armrest of the chair. She was also holding a bowl of food. “She meant stories, or folklore. Like Dracula and Twilight for us.” 

The last two words were foreign to her, but they didn’t seem important. “We don’t have wings, but we do have magic.” When they didn’t ask further, she went on. “There’s a basic form of magic each of us can access. Like cloaking for the ears, but there are more specific forms.” Helen’s face flashed across her eyes. She tightened her grip on the fork. It hurt, but the pain freed her from the fear’s grasp. The guilt lingered. “The broader categories are elemental or mental.” She resisted the urge to tell them that this distinction was not as clear as it sounded. 

“So you’re the second,” Sana said. “You calm people down?” 

Another case where lying wouldn’t help her. “I have control over emotions.” 

“Which involves making whips?” She raised an eyebrow. 

Dahyun frowned. “Those weren’t whips,” she said as Jeongyeon lightly slapped Sana’s arm. It had been a valid question, but she didn't ask why the girl had done it. 

“Ropes, whatever,” Nayeon interjected. “But what were they? These girls came back high. That stuff faded away pretty quickly.” 

“That stuff,” she said, “was pure calm. Blue is its colour.” 

“You can make emotions physical?” The fork Momo was bringing to her mouth stopped mid-level. Dahyun watched as the pasta fell back down. 

“Yes.” She didn’t feel like she should explain how she saw the world—worlds. That could wait. It was also too much for the first round of explanations. 

“That’s so cool.” Chaeyoung grinned. “But that doesn’t explain why you collapsed.” 

Now it was time to lie. “Exhaustion.” 

Silence followed. They were letting her speak again. She felt a warm feeling at the strangeness of it all. There was only curiosity around her. It reminded her of home. 

“Being around so many people is,” she trailed off, “overwhelming. Combined with the turning seasons, it was all too much.” She bowed her head.

“So the bad moods yesterday. That was you?”

“I am sorry that all of you had to suffer those consequences.” She was ashamed of her weakness. “I will rest more.”

“Not your fault if you were tired,” Momo put a hand on her shoulder, “but now, if you need any help, just ask.” It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to Dahyun. She felt that warmth again. It lessened the prevailing ache of emptiness in her chest. 

The rest of the girls voiced their agreements. She only saw good intentions among them. Her eyes felt like burning. It wasn’t because they were hurt. When she met Sana’s eyes, she saw that look again. It made her look away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The girls' cards are being laid out on the table, but Dahyun's still withholding some of hers. Is she right in not telling them about the attack. Or is it a mistake? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Fear

Sana was late today. She might have spent a little too much of her morning with another person. Going into Chemistry, she felt her cheeks warm at the look Chaeyoung gave her. Even Mina was fighting a smile. 

“I’m so sorry, sunbaenim,” she bowed to the teacher, who should have been calling her that, “Something came up.” Not wanting to bother with any irritation, she put more weight into her words. It was only for a second, but she saw the teacher’s eyes lose focus. She felt slightly guilty for using her abilities for something as small as this, but she wasn't asking for much. 

“No problem, Sana,” she smiled, “just take a seat.” 

She bowed her head as she went to her desk. The forest scent greeted her. This time she felt it tug at her hunger. 

Dahyun shot her a questioning gaze. Sana found she couldn’t hold it. It was like the girl was judging her. Had she been able to feel the effects of the compulsion? Then again, she hadn’t figured out that they were vampires when being asked to show her ears. Ears that were slightly elongated and pointed. Probably against her better judgement, Sana found them absolutely adorable. 

Leaning over, she whispered, “Morning.” 

Dahyun looked slightly taken aback by the proximity. “Hi.” Then she raised a hand, pointing at her lips. “It’s smudged.” 

Looking down, she couldn’t help but smile. “Wanna fix it?” 

The other girl raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that bad.” She lowered her arm, looking back to the front of the class. 

Sana took the time to look at Dahyun's hands. She still hadn’t figured out how she had hurt herself. Had she collapsed more than once? Even if it explained the cut, it didn’t explain how the other one got hurt. There wasn’t even a scrape on it. What could have led to her hurting the muscles in it that badly?

It felt wrong not to trust her, but Sana couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a steel wall between her and Dahyun. Whatever gaps she had found had been sealed tightly since Saturday. She knew she shouldn’t expect a full explanation after knowing her for— 

Sana frowned to herself. Time could be hard for her to gage, but this was a new level. Looking at the girl next to her, she tried to go back until the day Dahyun first arrived. The days all blurred together for her.

“How long have you been here?” 

Dahyun straightened. She’d been slouching. Unusual for her. “What do you mean?” Her voice was below a whisper, but Sana heard it fine. “Are you asking how old I am?”

“N–yes,” she said. If she was ready to tell, then why not ask?

Her eyes fell to her desk. She had her hair in a ponytail. It exposed her neck, but Sana felt no longing for her blood, even if she did have an incredibly appealing scent. Her hair had started taking on a dark blue sheen. There were strands of grey here and there, but they looked like they belonged. The stuff she’d choked her and Momo with had been light blue. Did that mean Dahyun was calm? Or was this just another illusion? Either way, Sana was impressed. Even her ears were completely round. She really wished that they’d be pointed again. 

She was interrupted from her thoughts when she felt something brush her fingers. It was a small piece of paper. Sana looked at it. When had she written something down?

 _≥ 400y_. At least four hundred years. She didn’t know how old she was? She decided against asking her more. 

Instead, she wrote her own note down and passed it over. _You still have to call me unnie._ Even if this girl was older than her, except for a couple of the other girls, she wasn't about to address her like she was. Also, she found the way Dahyun struggled to remember to use the honorific endearing. There was a side of her behaviour that seemed younger than Sana. 

When the fairy looked back at her, Sana winked. Her response was an amused huff. That counted as a victory. She turned her attention back to the front, only to realise that she hadn’t listened to a word the teacher had said. 

_____  
The change in the school was noticeable. Momo was surprised at the power Dahyun held over people. She’d felt it the week before, when the blue had been wrapped around her neck. It had been clear that the fairy hadn’t meant to kill anyone with the move, but Momo had still felt her control over herself slipping. It hadn’t even scared her, she’d just given in to the feeling of calm. It was like having two parts of herself: one that lost itself to the bliss, while the other stuck with her, focused on finding out what was wrong with Dahyun. That was the scary part. Only after the calm had faded had Momo felt weak. In the moment, she hadn't had any qualms with it. 

When they had caught up with her, Momo had felt a terrible anxiety grip her whenever she took a breath. Like her body had been afraid of her surroundings, but her mind wasn’t catching up. She thought she’d seen that same anxiety in Sana’s eyes. The pink-haired vampire had also said she'd felt that way. Momo'd also stopped feeling like she wanted to find the girl, and yet she knew she still had to look for her. Dahyun was undeniably powerful, but she wasn't sure where the fairy's reach ended. She controlled emotions, but what did that mean? Emotions weren't supposed to control your mind like that. Even as a witch, Momo hadn't known spells that could have those effects. As a vampire, she could make people do anything she wanted them to do, or make them forget anything. But she couldn't be compelled herself. Dahyun's powers did something else, but they could have an effect on a vampire. 

She pushed the thoughts away, instead thinking about the quasi-chase through the forest. She couldn’t forget the look in Dahyun’s eyes when she'd turned to face them. Her emotions had shown through, right before an eerie calm settled over her expression. It had only been for a second, but it had been enough to see that she was terrified of them. Of them? Or someone else? She clearly hadn’t expected to see Sana and Momo. One thing was for sure and that was that Momo didn't believe a word of Dahyun being here for curiosity's sake. 

Even so, there wasn’t a shred of that uneasiness in Dahyun’s posture now. Jihyo had invited her to have lunch with them. Dahyun, surprisingly, had accepted. 

She was looking around the cafeteria. “Is it unusual for others to be sitting with you?” 

“What do you mean?” Momo followed her gaze. She also listened more closely to the other students. Some were whispering about Dahyun, wondering what it was she did, why she was, “special”. That last one made her smile. “Well, usually if we’re with someone else, we sit with them separately.”

“Usually,” Chaeyoung cut in, “that someone is being dated.” She wrinkled her nose. “And some people love PDA.”

Dahyun’s eyes furrowed. “What’s PDA?”

Sana grinned. “This.” She tried to kiss Chaeyoung on the cheek, but the smaller girl wasn’t having it. 

“It stands for ‘public displays of affection’,” Mina cut in, “what couples do.” 

“Okay,” she said. “So is that what you were doing before Chemistry? You two are,” she trailed off, looking between Chaeyoung and Sana. Momo couldn’t quite place what that expression was. There was a small furrow in her brow. Was she reading their emotions? Could she see relationships that way? 

“No!” Chaeyoung shook her head fervently. 

“Apparently,” the pink-haired girl began to smirk, “I’m not her type.” 

“And why don’t you believe her?” Dahyun picked at her food. She’d only had two bites. 

Sana raised her eyebrows. “Do you not think so?” 

The fairy dropped her gaze, raising a bite of food to her mouth. Then she let it fall again. “I know she’s not lying.” 

“Ha!” Chaeyoung pumped her fist. Mina laughed. The rest looked between Sana and Dahyun. Momo was the first to laugh at the former’s shocked expression. The fairy looked between them. Then, slowly, a small smile grew on her face. As with previous smiles, it took time, but Momo was glad to see it was genuine. 

After they were done making fun of Sana’s confidence in flirtation, Dahyun stood up. She’d put the lid on her still full container. In that moment, Momo was struck by how tired she looked. Her shoulders hung and her eyes were downcast.

“Thank you for inviting me to eat with you.” She gave a small bow of the head. Then she left. 

Momo watched her. She didn’t move like she was weak, but she didn’t draw a lot of attention to herself. How, she couldn’t tell. More magic? 

_____  
Dahyun was smiling when she left the cafeteria. Not much had happened, but she felt warm. It must have been the humour of the girls. They seemed to have no shortage of it. 

She went to the library, making herself small, as though she were sneaking through the forest. It seemed to work. Now that she had spent more time in it, she had also found other intricacies within the room. There were flares of happiness or excitement felt in tandem with triumph. She could only think that these were moments of enlightenment, as rare as those could sometimes be in a place of stress. There were also traces of desire and love. Romantic love was as foreign to her as human technology was. It was also beyond her how it could develop or occur in a library. Yet her basic understanding of it told her it was a wonderful thing to experience. That seemed to, at least, be the case for the humans. The library gave rise to such questions. It was a lovely distraction. 

In light of everything, she was finding that she enjoyed being in school. There was no fear, unless you counted the type related to stress. The absence of true fear made the biggest difference. She had moved out of her apartment, finding that the cursed fear had also found its way into that room. A gift left by Helen. 

All of her things were now in her locker. She was surprised that Helen had not tried to take her money. It would have been wise to do so: cut her off so that she would need to seek out opportunities to earn more. Yet, as the events had shown, Helen had not been wise, but proud. Dahyun would need to erase all manner of pride from herself if she was to survive this year. 

She’d thought she’d been telling the truth to the vampire coven when she told them she’d rest well. In truth, she had not been able to sleep since she slept at their house. It had been a deep slumber, but now its benefits were escaping her. Even so, no matter how tired she felt, she didn’t want to sleep. It didn’t feel safe. She had been made far weaker. So much so that she was sure her mind was exposed. 

It felt cowardly to think such a thing, and perhaps it was a result of the fear that still coursed through her. Even so, her fears all felt legitimate as she ran through each scenario. She would sleep and they would close in on her, take her burden, and transform it into a weapon. Or they would find her through her dreams. Perhaps that was the reason they had infected her with fear. Nightmares were easier to pierce. She knew that was the case. The dream walking of the mental fae was something she never wanted to experience. Not again. 

Sitting back in her chair and looking at the shelves before her, she did feel calm. While the fear within her didn’t seem to subside, Dahyun did feel better since the attack. The poison could be diluted, buried under layers of newly acquired emotions. Was that it? She needed to feel more? Feel more what? Humour? Happiness? Those were easy to sense, but feeling them—that was a different story. 

The sound of her classmates packing and standing up from their chairs pulled her from her thoughts. She had Physics now. A good subject to immerse herself in. She hadn’t quite figured out the numbers behind it, although the concepts came to her easily enough. 

As she walked down the hall, there was a bang as someone closed their locker. It made her jump, her fear spiking. Goosebumps rose on her arms. She saw a curl of red anger around the person. Bad day. She slipped in a bit of her tranquility, discolouring the red strands slightly. Something tugged at her head, but it was nothing compared to the pain of previous days. She was getting better. 

“Hey.” Chaeyoung waved at her. “Long time, no see.” 

Dahyun smiled. “Indeed.” 

Class began as it always did. Dahyun opened her notebook, pulled out a pen, and wrote down a header and the date. Her hands didn’t hurt anymore, but she didn’t dare take off the bandage. She knew that those who would watch her the closest would know she healed quickly, but she didn’t want to risk drawing any more attention. 

The person in front of her had a glass water bottle. She knew that those were preferred over plastic, partly because they made for less waste, but also because they were more practical. 

They were making notes on light. It was something Dahyun found incredibly interesting, especially when it came to the different colours. She wondered if emotions obeyed the same laws of physics in terms of wavelengths. As she eagerly drew out a diagram of the electromagnetic spectrum, a huge crash caused her to tear into the page. 

The high pitched shattering of glass pierced her ears. It drove into her head. It drew out memories she’d tried to push down. It caused pain she never wanted to feel again. Disoriented, she got up, the memories of her past flooding her mind. 

She vaguely registered that she excused herself. Her speech sounded slurred to her ears. In the back of her mind, she knew she looked ridiculous. Her body felt separate from her. The worlds were blending together. She was caught in the middle. It was certainly due to the fear. Was this panic? 

Dahyun closed the door with a snap. She wanted to scream, but she covered her mouth. Her legs wouldn’t respond to her. Her lungs weren’t drawing in breath. Her heart pounded in her ear and her brain felt as though it trembled with each beat. No part of her felt warm.

“Dahyun?” Someone touched her shoulder. She shoved off their hand. She was still able to recognise their emotions. Momo. 

“Go back t…to class,” she muttered. Her voice shook. She was shivering. “You shouldn’t be a-around me.” She gasped as the sound of screaming entered her ears. It was not her own. “Not now.” The hall was quiet. The screams were in her head. 

“I’ll take you to the forest.” Arms closed around her shoulders. 

She struggled to get her off, but she couldn’t hold on to her concentration long enough to move. “No,” she was able to say. 

Momo brought her to her feet. “If someone like me can’t be around you, then neither should humans.” Her grip tightened. Dahyun felt wind on the back of her head. She was trembling more. Then grey flooded her vision. Her mind recoiled. 

When she returned to the physical world, the first thing she was aware of was that tears streamed from her face. Someone was holding her, tightly, but not so tight that it hurt. They were murmuring something, but she couldn’t make out what. It felt nice to be held. She didn't remember the last time she had been. She felt warmth in her chest. Focusing on it, she could feel the grip that fear had on her mind weaken. She opened her eyes, but all she could see was grey. 

“We were really hungry then, being on the run and all made finding people hard. We were so starving, actually, that we didn’t realise our target was actually a werewolf.” Momo stopped and sighed. “That was the worst and the best mistake we ever made. Worst, because we almost got killed. Best, because it brought our two covens together.” She gave her a gentle squeeze. “You stopped shaking.” 

“I,” her voice was hoarse, “I didn’t hear the first part of that story.” Her vision was starting to clear. She was in the forest. 

Momo chuckled. “It’s okay, I’ll tell you it tomorrow.” 

“Why does this work?” she asked. “How did you help me?” How could physical contact influence emotions in this way?

She was silent for a moment. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, but holding someone, telling them a story, about anything and just being there for them—“ A pause. “It’s worked before,” she said. "It works for me." 

Dahyun unfolded her hands. They were sore from the fists she’d trapped them in. She closed them both over the other girl’s arms. She wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do. 

“It worked today,” she squeezed once, “thank you.” 

There was curiosity unfurling in the girl. There would be questions about what had happened to her. She could not tell her. Not even partially. Explaining that she had been sent into this state due to fear would also require an explanation of what Helen had done to her. That would need an explanation about why Helen had been there in the first place. 

No. She could not tell her. She'd have to lie 

_____  
_Two years ago._

_She was feeling again. There was sadness, anger, but most of all loneliness. They were ghosts of what they once were, but she felt a weird relief to have emotions again. It swelled in her chest, providing her much needed warmth._

_Teresa still lay across from her, eyes closed, breathing. She wasn’t feeling anything. Dahyun felt worry. They had had their emotions stolen at the same time. Why wasn’t she feeling anything yet?_

_There was no strength in her body, and her muscles struggled to bring her to a sitting position._

_“Teresa,” she said, her voice only a rasp. The name struck the silence, but it did not reach her fellow fae._

_Dahyun crawled over to where she lay. She tried to reach out to her in the emotional world, but recoiled each time she came into contact with Teresa’s mind. It was cold. Empty._

_She reached her side, making sure she distanced herself from the emotional world then. It hurt, but she needed to make sure she could hear. She needed to hear the other fairy’s breathing. It was unsteady._

_“Wake up, please,” she said. If they were feeling again, they’d be able to escape. It would only be possible if they were together. Dahyun wasn’t strong enough to do it alone. She shook the girl until she felt dizzy from the physical effort. Stopping, she lay down beside her. Sleep didn’t seem like a bad idea. It would also give her more time to recover. Perhaps more emotions would come to her._

_Closing her eyes, she saw flickers of emotions from above. She didn’t dare draw on them—what if they realised she was feeling again? The extraction process was a painful one, like her mind was being set on fire, before being doused with freezing cold water. She didn’t want that to happen. She didn’t want to let it happen to Teresa again, who had bene drained first. Hearing her screams had almost been worse than experiencing the process herself. It was still beyond her how they had developed the means to do so. In the back of her mind, she wondered if there was truly a traitor among their clan. It was too painful a thought to consider. Teresa hadn't wanted to hear any of it._

_She turned her thoughts to something else. Survival._

_Carefully, Dahyun reached for Teresa’s mind, ignoring her own revulsion at seeing the emptiness. If she gave her some of her emotions, could that coax her awake? She could even give her too much and succumb to the emptiness yet again. Teresa was wiser than her. She was stronger than her. If anyone was to feel again, if anyone was to have the opportunity of escape, it would be Teresa._

_She opened a channel between them, allowing some of her core emotions to flow between them, as well as the few threads of happiness she’d gotten when she began to feel again. There was no resistance. The unconscious girl’s breathing eased and Dahyun felt the gaping hole in her own mind grow. Her eyes burned as tears began to flow. She didn't want to go back to that place of nothing, but she would now._

_“I don’t know if you,” Dahyun paused to catch her breath, “can hear me, but you have to hold on to these.” Then she began to lose her grasp on consciousness. “You have to wake up.” With that, Dahyun fell away from both worlds and back into nothing._

_____  
Momo was trying to find where Dahyun lived. She’d called Sana, asking her to excuse them both from school—either normally or through persuasion—and told her to meet her in the forest. When Sana had come, she’d explained to her what had happened: the air had been filled with the scent of death and Dahyun had run out of class. Momo had found her cowering just outside the door. She'd explained that tears had streamed down her face, that the girl was freezing to the touch, and that she'd been muttering in a language Momo couldn’t understand. Sometimes there were words said in Korean or English, but they didn’t make any more sense. She was telling someone to wake up, to save themselves, but also that she was sorry. 

She hadn’t known what else to do. She'd known that the forest was important to Dahyun, but not how. It seemed to help, so did the story-telling. 

Sometimes their memories caught up with them, even if centuries had passed, their trauma didn’t heal like normal injuries did. Either it was something terrible that they did, or something that had happened to them. Sometimes it came through a dream, other times the memories flowed out of nowhere during the day. Depending on the person, they had different ways to calm each other down. Mina always wanted them to talk to her about anything, but she would only let someone touch her after her anxiousness had passed. The last thing she wanted was to be in a public place. Dahyun, she had figured out, was like her and Sana: she needed physical comfort, as well as a story to follow. Or it had just been the words. 

After coming out of her trance, Dahyun had almost immediately fallen asleep. The tension in her body had finally eased. So had the knot in Momo’s stomach. The air had even cleared of the foul smell. Now there was only that of forests and mountain air. 

Momo came to an apartment building. She looked at the mailboxes, not finding her name anywhere. When she went in, she followed the girl's scent. It was combined with a smell that reminded Momo of a campfire. Was that meant to mask it? Magic could not normally hide scents, especially not from supernatural beings. Then again, magic was also not meant to affect emotions in the way that Dahyun could. 

She checked to see if the hall was empty before raising a hand to the lock. Ice formed from her fingertips, filling the lock and lifting the necessary hammers. She unlocked the door. 

When she got inside, she had to take a moment to process what she was seeing. It was empty. There wasn’t any furniture in it. The closet was open, but it was empty. So was the fridge. Yet she was sure Dahyun had been here. Her scent was the most potent here, still with that edge of fire to it, but also the rot-like smell. This was her apartment. Then why didn’t it look lived in? 

She left the room and locked the door again. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn’t realised she'd been on edge. The smell of rot was also absent in the hall. How was that possible? 

When she got back, Dahyun was still asleep. Sana had moved her, so that they were both by a large tree. She'd moved the fairy so that her head was on her shoulder. 

“She’s warmer now,” she said. “At one point, she was smoking, but nothing bad happened,” she frowned, “at least I don’t think so.” Her hand was absentmindedly stroking the girl’s hair. “Her ears are still round.” 

Momo sat down opposite them. “A strong illusion.” Passive too. It would probably take a lot to break the illusion, like absolute exhaustion. 

“Could she be hiding what she really looks like?” 

The girl in her arms stirred. “Too much work,” she murmured. A light sleeper.

“You’re up.” Sana grinned. 

Her eyes opened. They were light blue. “You also came?” 

“I called her,” Momo said, not being able to look away. Her eyes were actually glowing. 

“Dahyun-ah,” the other vampire looked almost in awe, “your eyes.” 

She frowned. “What do you mean.” Sitting up, she rubbed said eyes. They were still blue when she pulled her hands away. 

“They’re blue.” 

They began to turn brown. It was like ink spreading into her irises. “Light or dark?”

“Light.” 

“That’s a good sign. Light blue is something you both have encountered before.” She smiled. “Calm, or peace, however you want to describe it.” 

Did that mean her eyes, without the illusion, could literally give away her emotions? Momo suddenly became aware of the power differences between them and Dahyun. Yes, they might have been physically stronger and yes, they might have been faster, but they weren’t able to see what someone was feeling. Dahyun was even immune to compulsion. Sana and Momo were not immune to emotions. No one was. 

“Sana,” Dahyun said, her expression unreadable. "Um, unnie.” She straightened. 

“Yes?” 

“Why are you still holding me?” 

Sana, being Sana, did not let go. Instead, she just looked at her with a pout. “You don’t like it? You fell asleep in Momo’s arms.”

Her gaze fell. Was it a blush forming on her cheeks? Or just some colour coming back to her? “Thank you both for helping me,” she said instead. “No one was hurt?”

“People were confused,” Sana said, resting her chin on the girl’s shoulder. Momo almost felt jealous that she was still so close to Dahyun. She pushed it aside. If physical contact was a comfort for the girl, why should she be jealous? “I told the teachers it was an emergency, so we’re excused from the last few classes” 

The fairy nodded. “I guess you’ll want to know why it happened.” 

Momo shared a look with Sana. “You don’t have to today, but,” she trailed off, “I wanted to ask you something else.” 

She nodded again, her gaze expectant. 

“Why don’t you live in your apartment anymore?” 

Her eyebrows shot up. “I,” she paused, “do.” 

“You’re a bad liar.” 

Dahyun looked away. “You went there.” 

“Even if she didn’t,” Sana said, “I knew you were lying.”

Silence. 

Momo could see her mind working. Was she wondering whether or not she should tell the truth?

“I don’t feel safe there,” she said. “Being indoors was never pleasant for me either.” A sigh. “We were always outside, almost never needed shelter.” 

“You know that sleeping in the forest is illegal here.” 

She didn’t respond again. The fatigue in her eyes appeared. 

“Is that your solution?” Momo asked. “You don’t sleep?” 

“I sleep.” She got up, her steps shaky, but she straightened. Suddenly, she looked cold. The distance had returned. “Good day.” Then she walked away. 

Momo and Sana sat there. The latter looked as confused as Momo felt. Dahyun’s lies were clear as day, but they didn’t make any sense. Why not tell them why she was like this? Did she not think they could help? Maybe they couldn’t. Standing up, she met Sana’s eyes. No, they could help her. If there was anything they’d learned in their immortality, it was that you couldn't go through life alone. They could show her that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Dahyun's panic was caused by the fear that Helen had given her through that talisman. It essentially infected her with fear. 
> 
> Would love to know your thoughts as the story progresses, as well as the take on how Saidahmo are developing!


	6. I will be fine

A week passed. Dahyun had made an effort not to avoid the vampires. If they spoke to her or asked her to have lunch, she would go along with it, but she didn’t seek them out herself. She was grateful that polite conversation could still be had, but only as long as it was left at a superficial level. 

Her solution to the sleep issue was to sleep during lunch. She had found an area in the library away from prying eyes. It was there where she found the alarm on the phone very useful. That interval of time was precious to her and it made a big difference. Usually. On bad days, she would find her eyes falling shut no matter how hard she tried to concentrate in class. That was when she sought out coffee. It was like excitement in a cup. It energised her and, if she put in enough milk, tasted good. 

There had been moments when terror got the best of her. Dahyun couldn’t avoid them, but she found that if she strayed further into the emotional world and in a region of good emotions, there was enough time to excuse herself. 

This was one of those moments. She was in a bathroom stall, thankfully able to stand, but still shivering. Images of Teresa flashed in her mind. She felt the ghost of her mind, the emptiness. She heard her screams as they drew her emotions out of her a second time. It had been the last time. 

The guilt clenched her chest, but it brought her back to reality. Was the theft of their emotions tied to the magic used on her now? Their emotions had to have gone somewhere. Had they been studied? Or just used to fuel themselves? She thought back to when she’d escaped. The first time she’d ever killed. Had she not gotten to them all? Or had they shared the information with another clan? 

Her captors would have never understood the intricacies of emotions, just as Dahyun never understood those of the elements, but they knew the benefits. Calm held your concentration, happiness could energise, and love strengthened you. She still didn’t understand how that worked, but she had felt it with her family. That love had been lost now. She knew it as a distant memory, but it no longer brought her warmth. 

“Dahyun? Are you in here?” It was Mina. 

She forced her voice to steady itself. “Yes.” 

“I know why you leave class,” she said. “Maybe I can help?”

She swallowed a retort. How could you? “Don’t trouble yourself.” It felt strange to talk to someone through a bathroom stall. She opened the door. 

Mina was smiling gently. “Have you already heard our stories?” 

She shook her head, walking past her to wash her hands. She didn’t look at her reflection, knowing she would see through the makeup she’d used to cover the growing shadows on her eyes. Instead of looking at her face, she focused on her hands. By now, she was able to take the bandages off, her muscles had healed as well. There was a scar.

“I used to be a servant,” the vampire said. “Someone from the Toyotomi clan had taken a liking to me once, they demanded I work in Osaka Castle.” When Dahyun didn’t respond, she continued, “I’m not sure if you covered this in history, but that clan was destroyed.” Her eyes fell to the floor. Dahyun felt the immortal sadness expand. It was one she knew well. There was also an underlying fear, or anxiety. It was still potent, even if those feelings had been felt as a human. 

“Is that when you were turned?” She glanced towards the door. No one was coming. Yet. 

Mina nodded. “Somehow I survived the siege, but my chances of survival were slim,” she said. “The smell of so much death attracted the vampires in the area. They wanted me in their coven. Maybe because of their numbers, I still don’t know why.” She shook her head. “But as for the reason I’m telling you this, Dahyun,” she smiled, “that attack has stuck with me my entire life. Sometimes I wake up from a dream, terrified because I think I’m burning alive. Or I’m in school, and I think the ceiling is going to fall down on me.” 

“I could lessen that fear,” Dahyun replied. It would be a risk, but she could miss one day of school. 

“That’s not my point.” Her eyes snapped to the door. “Our curse is that we remember.” She went to the door, her hand on the handle. “I’m telling you not do it alone.”

____

“She could stay with us,” Sana said. She spoke Japanese. 

It took a moment for Momo to process what she said, she was trying to figure out this math problem. Of all the subjects, this was really not her best. It was so abstract. “Do you think she will?”  
“She should.”

“I talked to Jihyo,” she switched the variables, “she said we can’t force her.” 

“And do what instead?” Sana boxed her answer. “Wait until she collapses?” Her lead snapped. She clicked it three times. 

“Talk to her. We have lunch next. She’ll probably be in the library.” Definitely was more likely. Was it her favourite place indoors? Or did she do her research there? 

“Can’t.” A small smile. “Joy wants to talk then.” 

“Talk,” Momo repeated. The smile just widened. “You’re impossible.” 

“We’re on the same page!” Sana protested. “I know it this time.” Momo doubted that. Her friend was perceptive, but she did not use those skills well when it came to her flings. 

“Yes!” She’d got the problem. Triumphantly, she circled the solution. “So we talk to her tomorrow?” 

“Momo, Sana,” the teacher said, a kind warning in his eyes. 

They both nodded, their smiles identically angelic. When they looked back to their work, Sana gave her a thumbs up. 

Maybe it would be better if they waited. It was a full moon today. They needed to make sure the streets were safe. Even if they were weaker today, they couldn’t risk another creature losing control.   
____  
Dahyun was indeed in the library again. She was later today, because she needed to ask a question for Biology. The process of photosynthesis was logical, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the names. She asked for them in English. Her own language was somewhere in the middle. 

She stared at the two versions of the process she’d written down. It would be a lot of memorising. Remembering until it became second nature. A lot like when she’d first learned the different colours of emotions. Then again when she'd learned their names in a few of the human languages. Only this time there were no direct translations back into her own language. They had no word for photosynthesis or any of the chemicals involved. Once again, she was saddened that they had never devoted time to exploring the intricacies of the nature they revered so much. She had never taken the time to do so herself either, but she was now. 

Sitting back, she stretched her arms. The interest of today’s Biology class had energised her. It was a welcome change. The subject required a lot of focus, a methodological approach to retaining all that information. 

_Our curse is that we remember._ Mina’s words returned to her. She had volunteered information about herself so easily, told her what scared her. She had looked up the siege of Osaka to know when it was, but not because she didn’t believe the vampire. She had seen the unease within Mina at the mention of her past. The devastation of that event had remained with her for a little over four hundred years. That she could bring herself to face it, Dahyun felt nothing but respect for the vampire. She herself didn't have that strength. 

A giggle broke her from her thoughts. She looked up in time to see Sana and a girl she recognised from her math class. Dahyun saw her nerves were high. Right, red cheeks also showed that. Also embarrassment. Their emotions held a lot of pink. Desire. Was _that_ how romance began in a library?

Sana’s emotions were quickly overshadowed by shock. “Oh, Dahyun, hi.” 

“Joy,” she nodded, “Sana-unnie.” She stood up, gathering her things. Even if she hadn’t known what it was, she knew that Sana was likely here for that PDA she had explained the other day. Or was it something else, because this wasn’t in public?

“No, no, stay here,” she said hurriedly. Dahyun was seeing something that looked awfully like shame and guilt. Was that because she’d been caught? She wished she could say something that wouldn’t sound really weird around a human. Sana didn’t need to feel guilty for something like this. “We’ll find somewhere else.” She sent Joy a quick smile. Then they hurried away. Joy was confused, but seemingly too nervous for that to come to the forefront. Sana’s strange mixture of emotions didn’t fade. 

Dahyun sat back down, unsure what to make of her own emotions. Her cheeks were warm. She felt uncomfortable. Strange. 

It was dark when she left school. She had found an excuse to stay longer: extra Physics work. Her hand hurt from a day of writing, but it would fade within the hour. She’d have a lot of time now. There was a full moon today. She always liked such nights. Her mind would immediately clear when she saw the pale orb in the sky. It strengthened her kind as well. She felt it in her steps, which had been so heavy today. Now she could walk with ease. 

Her mind went to food now. What would she eat? She enjoyed chocolate, but it made her hungrier after eating. The food from the vampires had also been good. Had it been called pasta?

She walked down the street, looking into the different restaurants. There were many that smelled nice, but nothing appealed to her. She couldn’t eat very much. Her appetite had always been small, but ever since she’d been captured, it had plummeted. She knew she had to increase it. Not just to look healthier, but to also avoid people asking even more questions. She also enjoyed eating. 

When she reached the supermarket, she bought herself a sandwich. It was simple and filling. It would last her the evening and tomorrow morning. After taking the first bite, she went outside again. The air was cool, but not freezing. Yet something was wrong. 

At first she thought it was magic, fae magic, but that would be impossible. Then she saw fear in the air. It was recent and familiar. It was the fear of being followed. She listened for any sounds of struggle, but heard nothing. Why couldn’t she hear footsteps? There were not even the sounds of passing cars. 

Then she sensed emotions of hunger and anticipation. Dahyun’s stomach clenched. She was no stranger to the horrors of the world and the soul, but she knew only little about the crimes committed in the modern world. Even so, what little she was aware of was enough to make her follow the trail. 

As she got into a run, she felt a pressure lift from her shoulders. Then she heard yelling. 

“Get away from me!” Then there was a shriek. Surprise filled the air, then horror. 

Dahyun reached for the other presence immediately. She drove out the aggression, trying to transfer it immediately into the physical world. In her hand, she felt the blade of aggression and a desire to fight forming. Her head didn’t hurt. 

She went into the alley. What she saw made her stop in her tracks. Whatever she had soothed was standing there, staring at her. Her vision was blurred. She couldn’t make out specific features. 

It was a hulking figure, taller than her and no doubt stronger than her as well. Its eyes were red. It was surrounded by emotions she could only describe as murderous. There was a residue of confusion within it, as well as dread. Then feral rage erupted from it. 

Her moment of hesitation was her mistake. It lunged towards her. Dahyun dove away, but not before it caught her in the side. She couldn’t help her cry of pain. 

She got up with difficulty, not wanting to make the gash any worse. Letting the creature’s anger flow into her, she tried to pass it calm instead. No such luck. Rage flowed through it like a river. How could there be so much in one creature? 

Even so, anger was not an emotion that weakened her. She threw a dagger at it before leaping into the air. The creature snarled. She cursed. The blade had not been made of calm, but of anger. 

She returned to the ground. A second later, the creature grabbed her. It threw her at a wall. She felt her entire side sear in pain. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl it had been hunting. To her relief, she was still alive. 

The beast sent a fist into her abdomen. Dahyun gasped, the air leaving her. She took hold of the dagger in the creature, pulling on the anger still in its mind. She forced it to attach to the blade, making it expand. If she did this right, the creature would live. She gave it fear, feeling a twinge of guilt as she did so. The anger pushed against her, the creature dug its claws into her side and her shoulder, but it was held in place by the terror it felt. She silently vowed she would take it back. Tears ran down her face. Her mind was more in the emotional world than the physical. That was the only thing that kept her from screaming.

“Sleep,” someone said. Dahyun felt the magic of the word course through her. She did not fall asleep, but the beast before her fell immediately. It pulled her down, twisting within her body. She cried out again. 

Lying there, she could see the beast’s face properly. It was covered in fur, and its mouth and nose had extended into a snout, but it was humanoid. Was this a werewolf? It was sleeping, but its breath was more a gargle than anything. Had she pierced its lung? 

“Dahyun,” the person said. Worry filled her vision. “You’re bleeding out.” It was Sana. Why was she so concerned? The wounds would not kill her. They would heal in what, a day? Two?

“I won’t,” she said through gasps. “The other one might.”She couldn't let it die. 

Sana shook her head. “It’ll be you before them.” Were her eyes purple? With her pink hair, this made for a a fitting emotional combination: desire and love. Dahyun wondered again whether or not the girl knew this. 

Dahyun took a deep breath, the pain was truly too much. “Make them forget,” she said. Her jaw was clenched. If she let anything slip, her scream would probably wake neighbourhood. If the fighting hadn’t already. 

“I’ll worry about that later,” hands pressed to her wounds, “can you have vampire venom?” Was there electricity coursing through her body? It warmed her. A vampire with magic other than their compulsion abilities. It was unheard of, but recently little seemed to be impossible. 

“I’ve never tried it.” She knew potions for healing, but venom had never come into the equation. Knowing its effect on her would have required interaction with the outside world. They didn't do that. “Is the other girl hurt?” 

“I think she fainted.” Her voice sounded strained. It must have been the blood. 

“Leave me,” she said. “I will be fine.” If that creature was a werewolf, the anger within it might trigger something. Perhaps it would even lose itself to the anger. The blade needed to go. The creature needed to heal. 

There was a flare of anger. “You’re lying in a pool of your own blood. It’s not stopping.” 

“Go,” Dahyun spat. She didn’t mean to sound so venomous. “It’ll be better for you.” 

“The other girls are coming soon. Please tell me you know a spell that heals you.” 

Right. The potion. “Pass me my bag. I don’t care if you make it bloody.” 

She heard a crackling sound. Dahyun felt goosebumps Sana’s hand was alive with sparks. Her bloodied hand was suddenly only covered in black flecks. Burned blood? Sana disappeared for a moment. Dahyun took the opportunity to push herself into a seated position. She raised a hand, allowing what little superficial calm remained in her to pool in her palm. She drank it, sighing as her body and mind relaxed. She felt pleasantly warm. 

Sana came back with her bag, already digging around in it. Her brow was furrowed and the worry was immense. How could she be so concerned of someone who wasn’t even a part of her kind? Dahyun’s own people only cared for their own clan. A vampire would rarely be spared a thought. 

Dahyun snatched her bag away, clearly surprising the vampire, otherwise it wouldn’t have slipped from her fingers. Digging in the side pocket, she drew out several vials. Emergency potions she would need to recreate. She had the ingredients in her locker. Maybe she would be going to school tomorrow. 

She put the green one in her other hand. The werewolf was to her left, its head angled upwards, making her next move easy. Sana stood to her right. She would have a second, maximum. Dahyun strained against the agony coursing through her body. She turned towards the wolf. In the same movement, she uncorked the vial, pouring its contents into the wolf’s mouth. Then a hand closed around her wrist before half of it could flow away. 

“Are you crazy?” She snatched it away. “Werewolves are like us, we heal fast.” Dahyun felt the sour liquid be poured into her own mouth, her jaw clamped shut by a gentle, yet firm grip, forcing her to swallow. “You don’t.” She was met with eyes that still glowed purple. Brighter than before. Her anger blazed. It was paired with shock. And confusion. 

“How do you know that?” Dahyun squinted at her. The fatigue was catching up to her, but the anger kept it at bay. Anger. She needed to take the anger away. 

“Stop making conversation,” Sana snapped. Had Dahyun accidentally given her the wolf’s rage? She searched, but it seemed to be only from the vampire herself. It was an anger closely tied to worry. How did that work? “How long does the potion take to work?”

Speaking was getting easier. The numbing process was already working. “It’s not going to fix me. I don’t have healing magic, but it helps with the pain and speeds things up a day or so.” There was silence. “So you can go, this is all that can be done.” 

“Do you even know how this looks?” she asked. “There’s a werewolf with a huge red sword in it, a passed out girl, and another girl covered in blood.” 

“What happened?” Nayeon appeared. Her jaw fell slack at what she saw, her eyes flashed blue. Light blue. Like calm. They had peculiar eye colours. 

“I heard commotion,” Dahyun said. “I followed.” She turned to the wolf and focused on the blade of anger. It turned into a red and orange mist, she forced the fear she’d given it out as well. It manifested as a small grey cloud. She absorbed it, her heart pounding as rage and terror coursed through her. She breathed in once, her ribs protesting against the movement. Perhaps they had been broken. 

Nayeon came to her side. While she could hide it better than Sana, Dahyun could see the hunger in both, but knew they would not act on it. 

She got herself into a standing position. Her legs were still intact. They would be sore, but nothing she couldn’t walk on. “I have to go.” 

“To do what?” Sana stood with her. “Looking like that?” Her hands were hovering at her sides, as if to catch her if she fell. "Not happening."

“Dahyun, Momo is getting things from home. We can help clean the wounds.” 

She shook her head, making her way through the alley. Everything burned. There was too much anger and fear in her. She was cold and hot. Her wounds were on fire and she wasn’t losing her consciousness any time soon. “Both of you are uncomfortable. I won’t pull anyone else into this.” She looked down at herself. Her uniform was ruined. As she got to the opening of the alley, Momo appeared, a bag in her hands. Her eyes widened and Dahyun felt her panic. Her eyes glowed a deep pink, almost red. The colour complemented Sana’s eyes. Strange. 

Not even a second passed, and the vampire was at her side. “I don’t know how to use this stuff, but the pharmacist explained the process.” Why was she scared? Dahyun was standing on her own. 

She took another deep breath as she tried another step. Her shoulder screamed in pain. She gripped the wall. Sana’s hands gently took hold of her waist, steadying her. 

“Take her to the forest,” Nayeon said. “I’ll handle this.” 

“You won’t kill them, will you?” 

The girl shook her head. “We don’t do that.” 

Dahyun looked at her emotions. She saw nothing that made her feel she was lying. 

“This might hurt.” The steel in Sana’s voice hadn’t gone, but her gaze was softer. 

She was lifted off her feet. It tugged on her injuries, but it wasn’t unbearable. All three were still worried. She would have thought her own lack of fear spoke volumes for the lack of danger here. Did they not believe her? 

Dahyun tried to take some of their fear as they went. It made her dizzy. She had overextended herself. She stopped taking the grey. 

They came to a halt. It was silent, save for her breathing. Each breath tugged at one of her injuries. She needed a place to stay until she healed to tolerable levels. Maybe she could cast a cloaking spell. 

“Put me there.” Dahyun pointed to one of the trees. Something told her they wouldn’t let her walk there alone. She didn’t know if she should feel annoyed at being treated so, or grateful that they were concerned for her wellbeing. Even if there was little reason for them to be. 

Sana lowered her to the ground, her own clothes now soaked with Dahyun’s blood. Her eyes were brown again, but she saw flickers of purple here and there. Momo knelt down on her other side, her eyes still pink. 

Dahyun plucked a bottle from the bag. Pulling away the torn pieces of her uniform, she saw the state that her injuries were in. Deep slashes from the claws, as well as bloody points where it had sunk its claws into her. Blood was oozing from them. She poured the liquid in, knowing that a human doctor would be horrified by this procedure. Then again, the fae approach to injuries was to go to healers. She had no healer here. 

It stung. She felt fresh tears in her eyes. Through the blurriness, she saw that Momo and Sana were watching her. They both had a level of confusion, perhaps unsure of what they should do. She was grateful that they did nothing, though the grey clouds of fear confused her even more. 

“I will be fine,” she said. “Take from my bag the money this would have cost. Then go, it’ll be better for the both of you.” 

The two exchanged a look.

“How long will it take you to heal?” Momo asked. Of course they wouldn’t listen to her. 

“The worst will pass after a day.” She hoped it would. She looked at her potions. There was still one for sleep, one for calm, and one other one to heal. “I’m sure of it.” She downed it, hoping that the side effects wouldn’t be too bad. They were similar to that of alcohol, if she had understood drunkenness properly. She placed several wads of clean cloth to her chest. Then she started unrolling the bandage. 

Momo took it from her hands. “And you’re just going to wait here until you’re healed?” She worked much quicker. Her hands smelled like the cleaning liquid. 

“There’s nowhere else to go.” For some reason, that thought struck her more than it had in the past week. She was alone and without a home. Her eyes filled with tears again, but not because of the pain.

“It’s still a full moon,” Sana said. “Just because one wolf is down, doesn’t mean you won’t meet another. Or something else.” 

“Are there more vampires?” She winced as the bandages around her chest were tightened. 

“We’re everywhere.” Momo moved to the wounds at her lower body. More of the burning liquid came.

Sana leaned forward, her gaze serious. “You do know that if we leave, you’ll be lying here, still bleeding, alone.” 

“I have spells for that,” she said. If she wracked her brain hard enough, she hoped she could recall the exact process. 

“They won’t be able to hide your scent,” Momo replied. She was finished with her side. Her eyes scanned her, likely looking for any other injuries. 

How did she know that? Was there more magic to them than the electricity she’d seen Sana use? “This is a different type of magic. It will.” She could hope it would. 

“You’d be safer if,” Sana trailed off, biting her lip. There was an odd anticipation in her. Was she going to ask her to stay in their house? She dismissed that thought quickly. It was impossible that they would trust her like that. She wouldn’t. 

“I’m not going to a hospital.” The human healers might help her better than she could herself, but it would be more than unwise to ever risk exposure in that way. 

“We’re not taking you anywhere.” Then she brightened, as did her emotions. “There being a moon in the sky means you’re in danger,” she said, every trace of doubt disappearing. “So we’ll just wait here with you until morning.” Both she and Momo began to smile. As she looked between them both, Dahyun found that she couldn’t say no. 

“Alright,” she leaned back against the tree, wincing at the pain, “whatever you want.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Werewolves are less common than vampires, but far more prevalent than fairies.   
> They did overlook something, but Twice (save for Dahyun) do take it upon themselves to try and minimise attacks like this, especially during full moons.


	7. I'm not human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of this chapter opens with darker subjects of hopelessness, and even thoughts of suicide. It is implied, which is why the warning does not apply to the entire story, but if the implication itself is something you want to steer clear of, then I suggest not reading the italics and breezing over the first few non-italicised paragraphs that follow the flashback.

Sana watched Dahyun’s blood blacken. Every time she blinked, she saw Dahyun pinned to a wall by the werewolf’s claws. At first she’d thought the fae's heart had been pierced. She hadn’t thought twice about forcing the wolf to sleep. That had been a mistake, because the wounds deepened as both fell. There had been so much blood that Sana’s throat had burned. So had her eyes. 

She shook her head. Her eyes were warming again. She forced them to become brown. 

“Both are at home now,” Nayeon said. “The girl wasn’t badly hurt, she just fainted, so I told her that she was just walking home when she tripped.” 

“And the wolf?” 

“If this was the first time he turned, he’ll know what to do when there’s a full moon next.” She frowned at the scene before them. “If not, then he’ll remember he almost killed two people, but he won’t remember who, nor how he got hurt. Just that he has to make sure it never happens again.” 

“Who was it?”

“Mark,” Nayeon sighed, “so I know this wasn’t intentional.”

“What I don’t understand is how we didn’t know he was there.” Only when the scent of Dahyun’s blood had reached her, did she even know someone had been attacked. 

“Chaeyoung thinks it was purposefully hidden.” Jihyo said. “But the girl wasn’t a witch, so I don’t see how that would have worked.” 

If they still had an affinity to magic, they would have been able to sense the remnants of the spell. She had a fleeting thought of asking Dahyun, but she’d leave that for another day. 

“So the witch wanted an attack we wouldn’t be able to find?” Nayeon moved from one side of the alley to the other. 

Sana finished burning away the blood to black flakes. “The spell can’t block out scents,” she said. “A vampire would definitely have come.” The smell of blood still lingered. It was still of forest and fresh air, but she detected undertones of flowers and fruits. She shut her eyes, trying to suppress the hunger that arose. She’d thought before that Dahyun’s scent was just something to marvel at for how strange it was. Yet in this alley, the scent had grown more appealing, as if inviting her to taste it. She felt ashamed that she wanted to. 

“That makes no sense,” Jihyo frowned, “all it does is bring more attention to the supernatural than need be. A person cut up and drained of blood?” She scoffed. “The media would be all over it.” 

“I’m going back,” Sana said. Maybe they were just being overly suspicious. It wasn’t something they'd figure out today. “We’re in the forest. She took another potion to heal.” 

The older girl nodded, her expression softening. “She didn’t get bitten, did she?” 

“No, I checked.” Twice. Saying goodnight, she left the alley. She stopped to pick up some pizza. She ordered three, knowing that Momo would eat at least one. And if Sana was being honest, she would too. 

When she got back, Momo and Dahyun were sitting in silence. She saw why, Dahyun was nodding off, reminding Sana that she didn’t sleep—that she didn’t have a home. That the begged the question of why. Did she not have one to go back to? Had she left it? Been forced to? If Sana's experience told her anything, it was that you had to wait until that story was told. It had with Tzuyu. 

Momo sat with her knees hugged to her chest. She was looking at Dahyun with a small frown. Sana hadn’t understood why Momo had been so panicked when Dahyun had had her fear attack. Now she understood. The girl might not have been here long, but she had already made an impression. It went beyond the curiosity of what she was and where she came from. Things were and had been happening to her. She wasn't telling them what that was. That should have been a red flag. Yet the more she saw of Dahyun, the more she realised that the fairy wasn't some malevolent being. Hell, she'd given a healing potion _she_ needed to a wolf who had nearly torn her apart. 

There was something else too. It also went beyond simple attraction to her scent or her looks. A part of Sana wanted to just know _who_ Dahyun was. She couldn't yet wrap her head around why. 

“Anyone hungry?” Sana put on a smile. 

“Me.” Momo returned it. 

Dahyun straightened, but a sharp breath escaped her. Sana wished they could do something more, but waiting here was the best they could do. Actually, it was the only thing the girl would allow them to do. Said person reached out, putting her bag on her knees. She pulled out a wallet, her hands still coated in her own blood. 

“For the healing supplies and the food.” The money was thrown onto one of the boxes. 

Sana sat between the two. “I got margherita, salami, and Hawaiian,” she said. “Keep it,” she slid it back, “this is a gift.” 

Dahyun didn’t take the money. “There’s a food named after a place?” She looked at the pizza boxes with a raised brow. 

Sana lifted the lids of the boxes to show her, “Hawaiian is with pineapple, margherita is plain cheese and tomato sauce.” She picked up the money and threw it back at the fairy. 

Momo grabbed a salami slice and Sana one with pineapple. Dahyun took a margherita, holding it gingerly by the crust. When the slice dropped, she caught it by the bottom. 

“Have you never eaten pizza?” Momo asked. 

“I eat fruit and salad.” Then she took a bite. Her eyes widened. She chewed slowly and Sana could see the gears working in her head. “Pizza,” she sounded out the word carefully, “it’s good.” Another bite. 

Sana couldn’t stop the smile growing on her face. If this was how she reacted to pizza, how would she act with everything else? She found that she wanted to show her, just so she could see those eyes lighting up. 

“Am I eating it wrong?” She looked between her and Momo, who was also looking at her. 

Sana also started eating, trying to act like she hadn’t been caught staring. It was like when she’d gone to the library with Joy. For the first time in a while, she’d felt flustered. She’d also been tempted to explain herself to Dahyun. What she would have said, she didn’t know. 

“Nope, it’s just cute to see your reaction.” Momo smiled. 

Sana was surprised at that comment. She watched for Dahyun’s reaction, seeing that she glanced at her food. Her eyes were surprisingly unreadable, but the action alone spoke volumes. Oddly enough, Sana didn’t feel jealous, just really tempted to give her a compliment as well.

Instead she asked, “How are you feeling? Feverish? Cold?”

Dahyun’s eyes shot to hers and she was taken back by the intensity of them. They burned into her, searching for something. “What do you mean?”

“Werewolves are dangerous for us, a bite or scratch makes us sick. It’s like poison.” 

“Poison,” she repeated, her gaze growing distant. She looked down at her hands. “No, I’ve not been poisoned.” Then Sana heard her mutter, “This time.” 

Were they human, they wouldn't have heard that last part. But they weren't. 

She looked at Momo. They could leave this subject for later. Maybe it was just something that happened to her a while ago. Sometimes you could remember something from a fifty years ago like it was yesterday. They could have let it go, but with the attack, this was all too weird. As much as she wanted to let Dahyun explain herself without being forced to, they had to figure at least a part of this situation out. She nodded to the vampire. 

“What happened last time?” Momo asked. 

Dahyun froze as she went for another bite. They didn’t have to read emotions to see her panic. 

“Nothing,” she said. 

“You know we’re not dumb, right?” Sana replied. “Well, not usually.”

The fairy looked pained. Then she set down her pizza. She’d only had one slice, not even that. Sana and Momo were on their third ones. 

“I was poisoned,” she began, “once.” Her eyes went to the forest. “I still don’t know how she did it, but it was one that went into emotions. I don’t think it works on anyone save for those like me.” 

“What did it do?” Momo asked. 

“It’s like these injuries. Whenever I move, they hurt. When I am in the emotional world and pull or push on specific emotions, it hurts.” 

“What helped?”

She was silent for a moment. Sana saw genuine fatigue. It reminded her of the moments when either she or the others would have doubts about their immortality. Those moments never lasted long, and they were always brought out of them by each other, but it was hard to consider how long life was. How hard it could sometimes be. 

“Time, I suppose.” The tension in her shoulders gave out. She leaned back against the tree trunk again, hissing as she did so. Then she just sat there, looking again like she was going to drift off. 

“You should sleep, Dahyun-ah,” Momo said. 

“I’ll change your bandages first.” Sana could see glimpses of dark red on the white cloth. 

The fairy did not protest as Sana came forward. Her hands were clean, but she disinfected them anyway. Even if they were all immortals, holding to normal hygiene standards was still a good idea. 

She slowly took away the bandages. The material of Dahyun’s uniform had dried, revealing shockingly pale skin. It was cold to the touch. Too cold to be normal. 

“You don’t want to change?” She’d seen grey clothes in her bag. 

“Tomorrow,” Dahyun said. Her eyes were closed.

Sana cleaned the wound, holding her breath so she wouldn’t be faced with her scent full force. She pushed away some of the fabric. Then her eyes caught on a segment of raised skin. It was a scar, thick and jagged. She scanned the rest of what she could see. When she looked at Dahyun’s face again, she saw a similar mark on her cheek, one on her jaw, and along her neck. Did she not heal fully? Whatever the case, the illusion had fallen. Even her ears were poking out from beneath her hair. 

She was breathing deeply. Sana was pleasantly surprised that she felt safe enough to sleep and trusted them enough to tend to their bandages. It was definitely progress. And yet, she felt uneasy. 

When she’d explained the poison, Dahyun hadn’t spoken in past tense. She looked to Momo, who had crawled over, her mouth full of pizza, but her eyes filled with an unspoken question. Sana pointed at her abdomen before she resumed putting on the bandages. Momo's brow furrowed. 

“Why are you two concerned now?” Dahyun murmured. 

“Just thinking about what you said,” she admitted. “What emotions hurt you?”

“Can’t mistake it,” she said, her voice a murmur. “It’s grey and cold.” As she shifted, her brow furrowed. “Fear is truly a horrible emotion.” 

Sana finished her work. She sat back, trying to process what the girl just said. More moonlight was streaming through the leaves above them, illuminating Dahyun’s hair. It was silvery grey. 

______  
_One year ago_

_Dahyun opened her eyes. Awake again. Her stomach yearned for food it hadn’t gotten. Her body ached with weakness. It was dark, yet she could see so much, feel so much. It was too much._

_“Teresa?” she whispered. The other girl was also feeling again. Dahyun felt warm as happiness finally blossomed in her heart. Teresa deserved this chance at freedom._

_“I’m awake,” she replied. Her voice wasn’t hoarse. She had been able to maintain her consciousness. Perhaps if Dahyun hadn’t let herself slip wholly into a slumber, she might have also been able to stay awake. She hadn’t wanted to. Experiencing the physical world without emotion wasn’t anything she could bear. Her captors had noticed that. They’d kept her awake for a month. Dahyun had drained herself of all emotion then. Just so she could escape complete isolation. That was where Teresa had the stronger one._

_“I think it’s time,” Dahyun rasped. Guilt pooled in her gut at the fact that she hadn’t stayed awake with her. It must have been lonely._

_“Dahyun.” The girl’s voice held a tension she couldn’t place. Being in the physical world ought to have given her more experience with how people expressed their emotions normally._

_If anything, it had made her shut it out even more. She preferred not to feel anything—not to know anything. It was foolish, she knew that, but she was weak. Teresa was not. She would be the one to survive this. Dahyun would make sure of it._

_“Are you ready?”_

_A pause. “Don’t do it.”_

_“We won’t make it as we are,” she said. “You will if you’re at full strength.”_

_“Then we wait.”_

_“No.” The time she’d spent alone had drained her. It would do the same to Teresa. “We go now.”_ You will go now, _she added silently._

_Then she closed her eyes, focusing on the flux of emotions within her. She hadn’t thought it possible, but the emotional world had become even more beautiful. Feelings of appreciation blossomed in her. She let them grow. Then she took hold of those strands, took hold of her happiness, took hold of her calm. She dug deeper, finding the love she felt for her friend, finding the love she felt for her family, finding everything that her captors hadn’t been able to take away. In addition to Dahyun's core emotions of calm and sadness, love and happiness had not been taken away through their methods. She didn't know why, but she was glad they hadn't succeeded._

_Deep shades of green and purple flowed like ribbons towards the other fairy. She gave it all to Teresa._

_“Take them back.” Her voice was heavy, as though she were crying. It must have been the intensity of the emotions._

_She clenched her fists, allowing a dagger of anger to form in each. “Use them well,” Dahyun murmured._

_She felt lighter, but also emptier. It was though she were falling between worlds again. Even so, she stayed firmly in the emotional world. She had not given Teresa her anger, her fear, or her grief. Those emotions would give her strength. She would use them to overwhelm the rest when Teresa escaped. Kill them if she had to. She had never killed before._

_That gave her pause. She felt little hesitation for that prospect. Should she have?_

_She pushed the thought from her mind. She would not live to remember this day regardless. If they failed, she wouldn’t go back. She would empty her emotions herself, take out even the core emotions, and push herself deeper into the in-between, lose herself to it. It would not kill her, but she would never come back. They would never be able to touch her magic or knowledge. That was all that mattered. If they succeeded, Teresa would live on, reunite with what was left of their clan, and perhaps even bring about peace with the other clans. No. Not if. They would not fail. Dahyun would make sure of it. She needed to._

Dahyun woke with a start. Her chest filled with ice. Gasping, she dug her fingers into the earth. The movement hurt her chest, but she was able to find the trees through the grey fog. A face came into view as well. Momo. 

“Nightmare?” Arms went around her. Momo was somehow very good at making her feel safe. Was it a vampire ability? Or just her? 

Dahyun was caught between settling into them and pulling away. She decided to stay. Her injuries hurt, but far less than yesterday. The potions had worked. She’d be able to go to school today. It would be difficult, but if she consumed the right emotions, the pain would be bearable. She wouldn’t have a limp at least. 

“Yes.” Guilt settled as a pit now. If there was a way to turn back time, she would do so in a heartbeat. It was supposed to be Teresa. Perhaps Teresa might have been sitting in this forest. Perhaps she would have come here with the rest, made a home here. Perhaps they would have met the girls and formed an alliance.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she admitted. There was disappointment in the other girl. Dahyun found that she felt the same. How would it be to properly open up to another? It was a tempting prospect, but not one she wanted to touch upon now. Not even Momo, a person she had come to trust more than she’d ever wanted to. Would she ever? “Where’s Sana?”

“Getting you a spare uniform from home. You need a replacement.” 

“What time is it?” It was still dark above, but her eyes allowed her to see well in the dark. When she looked back at Momo, some of her fear subsided. 

“Four a.m.” 

“So we won’t be late.” She smiled slightly. 

“We?” Momo repeated. “You’re not ready.” 

“I may not heal as you do,” she replied, “but I’m not human.” They seemed to forget that fact. They also didn’t know very much about her kind. She supposed that was her fault. No, not supposed, it was her fault.

She angled her face to look fully at her. Momo's eyes were brown again, and they were very large in Dahyun’s vision. She soon realised it was because their faces were quite close. 

“I know.” Momo's voice was soft. 

“So,” now Dahyun pulled away, carefully so as to not strain anything unnecessarily, “believe me when I say I am alright.” There was still a lingering warmth, despite the loss of contact. Her heart also beat quicker. That was unusual. 

Momo held her gaze. She felt her face warm as the exchange lasted longer than it should have. “Okay.”

Sana appeared, a small pile of clothes in her hands. “I brought you a uniform, an extra pair of clothes of mine, and a few other essentials.” She came forward, looking between Momo and Dahyun. In that moment, irritation flared. It was quickly pushed down by curiosity. “What’s okay?” 

“Dahyun says she’s healed enough to go to school,” the other vampire said as Sana handed Dahyun the clothes. 

Sana raised her eyebrows. “Really?” It was a rare occurrence, but she could read that expression and understand her tone. She didn’t believe her at all. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if she took the clothes away then and there. 

“Yes.” 

The pink-haired girl’s eyes looked her up and down. Dahyun followed her gaze. Her body was either bandaged or bloody. 

“I’ll go clean up. The river’s not far.” It would have to do. 

“You do know showers exist.” 

She did. “It’ll do.” She tilted her head to the side. “You two have just been spoiled by human plumbing.”

Both looked taken aback. Dahyun smiled. 

“I’ll see you at school.” She began to walk, before she stopped. “I’m doing this a lot, but I,” she bit her lip, thinking how best to say this, “thank you for being… here. With me.” Pause. “It has been a long time since I last felt safe. Do let me know how I can repay you such a, a…” What was the word? “Gift.” She was also quite sure that they had put the money back in her bag. She would have to make sure they got it back later today. 

With everything said, she walked off to the stream. 

When lunch started, Dahyun was immediately surrounded by Momo and Sana. She hadn’t the slightest idea how Sana had come so fast without revealing her speed, but she had. The three of them were getting stares, but Dahyun found she wasn’t so self-conscious about them. Not this time. It must have been because attention from her classmates paled in comparison to recent events. Not because the two people at her side made her feel near untouchable. Certainly not. 

“How are you feeling?” Sana whispered. 

_In pain,_ she thought. “Good,” she said. Her sides stung with each movement. Her shoulder also couldn’t handle much. She wondered if she'd been successful in hiding her expression. She'd been more conscious of it now. Being in the emotional world still hurt, so she avoided it as much as she could. It also meant she had been more attentive to expressions. It was a gradual process, but she was learning how to understand them. 

Momo gently slid an arm around her waist. Was it to steady her? “Don’t overdo it.” The hand wasn’t cold, but it brought a cooling sensation to the injury. It must have been similar magic to what Sana had. 

Dahyun didn’t pull away, but sent the girl a smile. She felt shock, but didn’t see the same on Momo’s face. There was just a gentle smile in response, as well as a poke just below her chin. 

Sana was frowning as they walked. Dahyun felt irritation. Did she not believe her? Or was she irritated at Momo? She probably didn’t believe Dahyun. 

“I actually wanted to go to the library.” Despite the close proximity to the two vampires and the accompanying attention, she didn’t want to. Even so, she was so tired. It must have been the injuries. Fortunately, she wasn’t feeling so cold anymore. Was the poison finally wearing off? 

There was disappointment in both. “You should eat something,” Sana said. “You had half a piece of pizza in the last twelve hours.” 

Dahyun dug around in her bag. Even that tugged at her shoulder. She forced herself not to flinch. Then she pulled out the sandwich she’d bought yesterday. She took a bite. It didn’t taste good. “And now I’ve had this.” Patting Momo’s hand, she pulled away. She walked off. 

As she did so, she felt the urge to look back. She pushed it down. Their emotions were tinged with anticipation and hesitance. Did they also want to look back—want her to look back? If they did, she wouldn’t be able to say why. 

That was becoming a trend. In class, she knew what to do once she understood the concepts. With these vampires, she didn’t know what concept there was to understand. There didn’t seem to be any logic to it. Some people pitted reason and emotion against each other. What they didn’t know was that emotion had a logic to it, but it also had an area where nothing made sense. Dahyun had found herself in the place of confusion. 

As she dozed in the library, her mind went deeper into her emotions. Ever since she’d given up the love and happiness of her youth, she had felt cold. It was not freezing, but chilling. As though she were in a perpetual state of emptiness. Of course, she wasn’t empty. She still felt, and for that she was grateful, but she had lost a large part of herself. The memories of her family could still come to her and she was glad to know them in that sense. And yet she grieved for the warmth she had lost. She grieved the fact that she felt nothing when she thought of their faces. It wasn't right, but she couldn't get her emotions back. There was a great disconnect between herself and the ones she was supposed to love. No, it wasn't right. But that was what the state of her mind was. 

Dahyun lost herself to the search of her own emotions. Sometimes she missed the warmth of love and happiness. Then she went looking for it. There were few traces of either, and they were small, like the dust motes one sees in a ray of sun. They were hardly flickers of the emotions, but she clung to them all.

Today’s search was different. She found a similar warmth, but in a greater quantity. Had she absorbed another’s love? She was prepared to push it away from herself and leave it for another. The only love or happiness she was allowed to feel was her own. She had sworn to herself never to take such emotions. They were as sacred as one’s life. And yet, as she took hold of the green and purple emotions within her, she was shocked to see that they were her own. 

It should have been impossible. Her shock at the discovery was so immense, it blinded her. She withdrew from the emotional world, only to feel someone tapping her shoulder. They were also speaking to her. 

“Dahyun,” the voice said, sounding strained, “wake up.” 

She lifted her head, narrowly avoiding a collision. Nayeon was beside her, her brow furrowed. 

“You slept through your alarm.” She pointed at Dahyun’s phone. “The buzzing was driving me crazy, so I came over here,” she said. “Only to find you, sleeping.” 

She stood up. “I’m sorry.” That meant class would be starting soon. “I’ll not sleep through it again. I made a mistake.” Her heart was beating quickly. She couldn’t believe she’d started feeling deeper emotions. What was the cause? She had to figure it out. It was possible they could be the key to curing the poison. Dahyun felt conflicting emotions of relief and regret threatening to form if that were true. Relief, because she could be free of the fear. Regret, because she had been unable to do the same for another. 

“Not so fast,” Nayeon caught her arm, “is this where you make up for the fact that you don’t live anywhere?” Her eyes had narrowed. She was angry, but only the anger people feel when they’re worried. Like the one Sana had felt in the alley. Why was she worried now? 

“I don’t need much,” she replied. Then she repeated what she’d told the other two yesterday, “I’m not human.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not invincible either.” The girl made a point to look her up and down. “I know you’ll say you’re fine on your own and all that crap,” she said. “But I’ve seen too many people get themselves killed because they believed that. Humans, werewolves, witches. Vampires too.” 

“My people survived millennia with that belief.” 

“Maybe you're right, but that's a people, you’re a person,” she said in a hushed voice. “I was like that too, and I nearly got myself killed. Twice.” Her eyes softened. “That was before I met Jihyo. The rest of them had that same mentality, until we found each other.” She let go, but Dahyun stayed to listen. “Look, we’re eight vampires and even if our eyes glow when we see blood, we have our thirst under control. That makes for one of the safest houses on earth.”

Dahyun realised where this was going. “Nayeon, that fact might very well change if you take me in.” She couldn’t deny that she wanted to say yes. 

“Stay one night, eat a real meal, enjoy a proper shower," she winked, "and sleep in an actual bed.” 

“It’s not safe,” she repeated. It was in vain. Nayeon showed no doubt, nor any sign that she might listen to her. She couldn’t understand why. She had done nothing for it. She had nothing to give them. Why offer her a place to stay?

“The only safety to worry about right now, is your own.” Then Nayeon turned to leave, but not before she said, “So let us help you.”

_____  
When Dahyun came in, her eyebrows were pinched in a frown. She looked cute, especially with Sana’s uniform being a bit too big for her. When she saw her, she nodded hastily.

“Hi,” she said before sitting down. The twitch of her lip was the closest to a flinch. She could smell her blood. Still hurt. 

Should she ask what was wrong? Should she just leave it? “How are you?” 

“Good.” Her lips pulled into a smile. 

_Liar,_ Sana thought. She left it at that. Dahyun’s curtness took time to get used to. It was like when she first met Tzuyu, both because of the initial language barrier, then because it was just the girl’s character. Unlike Dahyun, however, Tzuyu had warmed up to them and stayed that way. Dahyun's openness came in waves. Today it was at low tide. 

The teacher dove into a presentation about redox reactions. It was something Sana knew pretty well already. She looked over to the fairy. Her face and neck were free of scars, even the bruises that had been forming on her face were nowhere to be found. Sana’s eyes lingered on her hair. If she wasn’t seeing things, it was taking on a blue sheen. Was that good? It was still grey. 

Grey. She’d said it was the colour of fear. Did that mean her emotions could show themselves through her hair? That she couldn’t conceal that part of herself? It was all making sense. She still needed to discuss this with the rest of the girls, but Momo and her had talked after Dahyun left. The smell of rot, her intense moments of fear, her lack of strength—how had they not figured it out sooner? There was just the question of how to approach it. 

Then Dahyun glanced at her. Sana looked away, focusing her gaze near the front of the room. 

Mark sat in the second row. He’d looked uncomfortable the entire day. She almost wished he knew who he’d attacked, but that was unfair. Most werewolves didn’t know what they were doing when the full moon took hold. They were driven by primal aggression, but strengthened by their human knowledge. It was a deadly combination. Unpredictable. 

He was hunched now, a hand hovering by his shoulder. Were injuries caused by emotions different to the ones caused by normal objects?

Sana spent the hour trying not to look at Dahyun. The fact that it was hard scared her. She didn’t know why she did it, but there always seemed to be something new about her. Either it was her hair, a lightness to her eyes, a smile, or just a quirk she hadn’t noticed before. One time it was the sharp curve of her nose. Sana felt like a creep for picking up on that. Why did she care about those features? 

Then class ended and with that, the school day. Sana started packing. Beside her, Dahyun wasn’t moving. She looked. The girl was watching her, her lips pursed together. For some reason, she thought that the girl was going to ask her why she was looking at her so much. She wouldn't have an answer for that. 

“Yes?” Sana sat down so they were at eye level. 

That got her out of her thoughts. “Nayeon found me in the library,” she said quietly, out of earshot from the teacher. Not asking about the staring. “I’ve been trying to sleep there whenever I could.”

Another thing she should have figured out sooner. Maybe she would’ve if she hadn’t gone there with Joy. 

“Well, after what she said, I,” she chewed on her lip, “how do I get to your house again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small clarification: when I say deeper emotions, I mean love and happiness. For Dahyun it's the emotions she felt when she was younger and with her people—literally the good old days for her. 
> 
> We start at a very dark place in Dahyun's life. Then we get some more Saidahmo, but also some pure Saida near the end. There are stronger hints of feelings coming for all girls, even though only Sana and Dahyun's perspectives have been seen here. I hope it's a good balance. Not to mention, we finally have Dahyun agreeing to give living with them a chance! Personally, I found that it was about time, but the attack from last chapter was definitely a moment where Dahyun realised she could really trust these vampires. 


	8. I will stay

Momo joined the two on the way home. She was over the moon that Dahyun was joining them. It was surprising that Nayeon had managed to convince her. Then again, the eldest vampire rarely got angry, so even a hint of that could get someone to do just about anything. 

“You’re both so happy,” Dahyun said. She was looking at them, but not their faces. In the space in front of them almost. Her gaze almost looked like awe.

She linked their arms, allowing some cold to seep in. The fairy had tried to hide it, but her eyes had sometimes given away the pain she was in. “What do they look like? Emotions?” Momo asked.

That took her out of the daze. Her eyes focused on her face. Something had changed in her. She would meet gazes as though she were searching them. It made Momo tempted to look away, but for the sake of her pride, she couldn’t. She chalked it up to not wanting to be looked at like she was a complicated physics problem (because Dahyun tended to look like that in class as well). 

“All of them are beautiful,” she said. “Even grief, which is black.” Her gaze fell on the forest, softening as it took in the leaves. “The best I can say is that it’s like in chemistry,” she glanced at Sana, “when you get the small section of colour change just before mixing. Or paint in water.” Her eyes glazed over again. “Happiness is green, a deep green like spring trees.” Shaking her head, her expression turned pensive. “It’s a very strong emotion, not just for the self. I’m surprised you’re feeling it because of me.” 

Silence. Momo was trying to process that statement. She looked to Sana, who had a frown on her face. 

“We wanted you somewhere safe,” Momo said slowly. “A place that might feel like home to you.” _Too much_ , she thought. “At least a place where you don’t have to store food and clothes in your locker.” Not that she had seen that, but when she walked past, she could smell the scent of forests and food coming from it pretty strongly. She also didn't know where else the fairy would store that stuff. 

Dahyun smiled slightly and looked down at her hands.

“And by the way,” Sana said, “Jihyo’s cooking is great. It’s even better than pizza.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “Truly?” 

“Truly,” Momo winked, “but it’ll take a few meals to know just how good it is.” 

Her smile widened, but she still didn’t raise her eyes. “And you would really just let a stranger into your house and allow them to stay?” 

“You’re not just any stranger, Dahyunnie,” Sana replied, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You’ve strangled us, slept in Momo’s bed, and been rescued from a werewolf by us.” She grinned. 

The fairy’s smile faded. “I have nothing to give you.”

Momo poked her cheek. “This isn’t like a loan. There’s nothing to give back,” she dug around in her bag, “or pay back.” She stuffed the money in the other’s pocket. Dahyun had somehow given it to her today. When, she had no idea. She was craftier than Momo gave her credit. 

The girl blushed, trying to take it out, but Momo grabbed her hand instead. 

“It’s not right. We never accepted anything for exactly this reason. We didn’t have anything to give back,” Dahyun's brow furrowed, “unless you’re in need of emotions, or want to lose some.” 

The words reminded her that Dahyun came from a completely different world. She and Sana might have been immortal, but they’d been in the human world all their life. Momo found she wanted to know everything about the other’s world, and she wanted to tell her about theirs. 

“You’re not going to give us anything,” Sana said firmly. “You said it yourself, this is a gift. Gifts aren’t meant to be given back.”

She looked like she wanted to protest. Instead, she looked between the two of them, scanning their faces. Again, Momo felt like a physics problem. She wasn’t sure if she didn’t like it or not. 

“I’ll find something,” she said. It seemed more like she was saying it to herself. “Maybe I do the,” she frowned, “the...chores?” 

“Jeongyeon-unnie will love you.” Sana giggled. “You’re serious? Housework?”

“I know it’s not enough,” she wasn’t looking at them, but at the forest now, “but it can be a start, can it not?” Her way of speaking was unusual. It was almost a mixture of archaic and modern, as if she'd learned both forms and was now mixing them up. 

The house was coming into view. Momo was almost disappointed. This was something that needed a long and uninterrupted talk to make Dahyun realise she owed them nothing. 

Sana took a deep breath. “Today we’re having lasagna.” She grinned. 

Another frown. “Lasana?” Dahyun repeated. 

Sana said it again, but slower. 

“Lasagna.” The fairy's brow rose. “Your words are so strange.” 

Momo nudged her lightly. “We could say the same about yours.” 

Sana opened the door. “What is love?” 

“Purple,” Dahyun replied. 

She shook her head, “I meant what it is in your language.” 

“Oh,” she said, “ _chelan_.” 

“ _Chelan_ ,” both said. “And I love you?” 

“ _Weh chela_ ,” she replied. “It’s a rare phrase, but that’s it.” 

_Weh chela_ , Momo thought. Definitely a phrase to remember. 

To everyone’s relief, Dahyun loved lasagna. She loved chocolate even more, which was in the dessert. 

“I still can’t believe your appetite,” Momo said, finishing up what was left of the fairy’s lasagna. “Did you just never eat much?” 

There was a fleeting look on Dahyun’s face. It was between panic and hesitation. “Not really,” she said, taking another bite of the cake. “Never needed to.”

She really was a terrible liar.

“You should start eating more,” Momo said, “it’s good for you.”

They started talking about different foods. Dahyun looked interested in each one, but still confused about their names. At one point, Jihyo started showing her how the stove and the oven worked. They also confused her. At one point she was talking about fires being 'far more straightforward'. Momo had had to smile at that point. 

“I wanna watch a movie,” Tzuyu called. 

“Clean up first,” Jeongyeon shot back. 

The fairy was at the table so fast, Momo wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d teleported. She started gathering the plates, piling them in a stack in one hand, perfectly balanced. 

Jeongyeon stared at her, watching as she filled the dishwasher. “Can you stay here? Please.” 

Dahyun smiled. It was slow, but it looked easier than the last ones. It made Momo feel warm looking at it. “I,” she finished putting in the plates before on to the glasses, “I’ll think about it.” 

Sana flitted over, wrapping her arms around the girl. “I hope you say yes,” she murmured. Everyone could hear it. Everyone saw how Dahyun blushed. 

The other girls looked from Sana to Momo. The latter didn’t know why. Was she supposed to be jealous? There might have been a time when she would have been, but this wasn’t like that. She didn't know why exactly, but she was unbothered. 

Dahyun shuffled to the dishwasher, pulling Sana along with her. She glanced her way a few times, but the vampire didn’t move. Momo smiled at that. If there was anything Dahyun would need to realise, it was that Sana loved skinship. So did Momo. She was going to be smothered if she stayed. 

Momo really hoped she would stay. Not only would it mean that she was safe, but also that she could actually live a normal life. She was going to high-school—that had to mean she wanted some normalcy. 

Yes, Momo wanted all of those things, but she had selfish reasons too. A part of her wanted to see who Dahyun really was. It also wanted to be there when she finally let her guard down. 

The fairy seemed to notice her looking. No—notice her staring. 

Dahyun's brow rose, but the girl continued to load the dishwasher. “Sana, unnie, I might drop something if I can’t move.” 

“I’ll catch it,” Sana replied. “I have good reflexes.” 

“Don’t listen to her!” Chaeyoung cried. “Anything that breaks in this house is either because of anger or Sana’s clumsiness.” 

“A clumsy vampire?” Was that an accent creeping through? It drew out the words more. Almost British. Yet she sometimes had a French-sounding pronunciation of some words. 

“You have no idea,” Nayeon replied. “Anyone wanna watch a movie?” 

Everyone cried yes, rushing off to the sofa. Sana dove into the middle, but Momo went to Dahyun’s side. The girl was watching the rest, a look of confusion on her face. 

“Have you ever watched a movie?” she asked as the rest debated over what to watch.

“Only the ones in class.”

“Not the same.” Momo took her hand. “This is interesting.” 

“Those were interesting,” she retorted. 

She felt a smile coming on. “Right, forgot you were a nerd.” 

They took a spot on the floor, Dahyun just in front of Sana’s legs. 

“Nerd?” She looked bewildered. 

“Really smart person,” Jihyo clarified. 

“Then aren’t all of you nerds?” 

“Some of us,” Tzuyu said. “But not everyone.” She glanced at Momo, who felt very offended. “A nerd is focused on their studies, it can be an insult, term of endearment, or just some kind of statement.” 

Dahyun nodded, completely unfazed that Tzuyu just gave her an explanation deserving of being in a dictionary. Maybe that would help her better understand new terms?

“So,” Jeongyeon sat down on Dahyun’s other side, “you’ve never seen a movie?”

She shook her head. “Apparently not a real one.” Her eyes flickered to Momo.

“There’s a bunch of different ones, including one in space,” Tzuyu said. “It’s called Star Wars.” 

Everyone groaned, but Dahyun’s eyes were curious. 

“Space is what they call everything around us, right?” She looked up. “Where the earth hangs, as well as the sun, moon,” she trailed off, “it’s not a frightening movie, is it?” There was an edge of concern in her eyes. "The idea of space has caused people to feel despair when they see the night sky." 

How she knew that, Momo didn't know. She'd have to ask about that later. She remembered what Dahyun had said about fear. She still didn’t really understand it, but the fairy had said it hurt her. “Let’s watch a romantic comedy,” she said. “Least scary thing ever.” 

Chaeyoung cheered. The fairy relaxed. 

They chose to watch Notting Hill. Having seen it many times, Momo didn’t pay attention. She watched Dahyun’s reaction instead. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at the actors. It was that physics problem look. Times ten. 

She looked at Sana who was stroking Dahyun’s hair. She raised her eyebrow. 

Momo glanced at Dahyun’s expression “Very focused," she mouthed. 

The other girl grinned. Then she stood up, and the fairy looked up, perhaps missing the contact. “I just realised, you’ve probably never had popcorn.” She patted her head. “You’ll find out what it is in a few minutes.” 

The frown returned to Dahyun’s face as she turned her attention back to the movie. Her lips were moving, Momo couldn’t make out any words. It was in her language. The sounds were drawn out, the intonation almost circular. That was where the British and French elements came in. 

She was tempted to ask her what she was thinking, but the girl’s concentration wasn’t anything she wanted to break. So she just watched. 

Sana came back with Mina, both holding two bowls each. She sat down on Dahyun’s other side, placing a bowl in her lap. She took a piece and held it up to her mouth. 

“Say ah.” 

The grey-haired girl looked at her for a moment. “Ah?” 

Sana popped a piece in her mouth. 

Dahyun chewed. Her frown disappeared. She smiled. “We had snacks like this when we researched,” she whispered. “Popcorn,” she tilted her head, “it’s good.” Then she was back to watching the movie. Her frown returned. 

Now both Sana and Momo were staring. The other girls would definitely tease them about that. 

They exchanged looks every now and then, specifically when the ultimate confession happened and Dahyun’s frown deepened. Momo tried to think about everything she’d talked about before. Hadn’t she said “I love you” was an uncommon phrase? Did no one court each other in fae society? Dahyun clearly didn’t understand romance. Was it completely unheard of? Something that was frowned upon? Could it actually happen among her people?

Then the film ended. 

“Thoughts?” Jeongyeon asked. 

“You were right when you said they were more interesting,” Dahyun said. “But I don’t think I’m watching the movie correctly.” 

“It looked like you were figuring out what the meaning of life is,” Sana said.

“Doesn’t your head hurt?” Momo asked.

“Yes.” She grimaced. “You’ll all think I’m stupid, but it was really hard to understand.”

“What about it?” Jihyo asked. “We’ll explain.” 

Dahyun shook her head. “I have too many questions. I think I’ll just have to read about it before I watch it again.” 

“Ask away,” Nayeon said, looking at her watch, “it’s only 9.” 

“Why would so many people care if you are,” she trailed off, “like that with someone?”

“She’s famous,” Mina said. “Many people pay attention to her, which includes her life in and out of the public eye.”

Dahyun looked bewildered. “So would that make you all famous?” she asked. “Everyone is always talking about who is with who among you. Especially you.” She pointed at both Momo and Sana. 

“With who?” Chaeyoung leaned forward. “I tuned out that crap long ago, but if you heard something interesting, tell us.”

“I lost track,” she replied. Momo couldn’t read her expression. Was she amused, indifferent, jealous?

The other vampires laughed, Sana and Momo joined in, while Dahyun smiled. 

“Anything else?” Sana asked. 

“Almost everything,” she smiled sheepishly, “I’m not perceptive within the physical world.” 

“So with movies you’re just like the rest of us,” Chaeyoung grinned. 

“I suppose so.” She looked away. “I never needed to learn.” 

“Before I became a vampire,” Momo said, “my parents forced me to do everything by hand so I wouldn’t become lazy by using just magic.” 

“She’s still lazy,” Jeongyeon chimed. 

Momo threw a piece of popcorn at her. 

“I’ve never—” Dahyun broke herself off. “I can’t turn it off. Even if I dive into the physical world, I still feel the emotions of others.” 

“Even when you don’t want to?” Momo asked. 

She responded immediately. “I don’t want to ever not feel emotions,” Dahyun said, her words edged with steel. “I…I—” She stood up, her expression pained and heart beating quickly. “It’s like losing your place in the world. You’re not whole, but you’re not empty either. It’s just,” she bit her lip, “lacking.” 

Everyone was silent, expecting her to go on. The girl’s scent had gotten a sour edge to it. Her breathing was shaky. The way she had spoken. It wasn’t hard to figure out that she had experienced it, but when? Momo wanted to give her a tight hug. Was the fear taking over again? 

As Momo stood up, Dahyun straightened and the scent became sweet. 

“Thank you for dinner and the movie,” she said, a warm smile appearing. It didn’t reach her eyes. Sometimes she was a terrible liar, other times she could put on an almost perfect mask. Almost. 

Sana stood up. “Didn’t you make a deal?” She glanced at Nayeon.

“We have your bed set up for you,” the older girl said. “And I know you’re not going anywhere comfortable.” 

“Will you let our hard work go to waste?” Momo went to her side. She had even more questions now. They would have to wait. 

Dahyun looked between all of them, her gaze softening. “Alright. Only because you made the bed.” A smile appeared. It did reach her eyes. 

_____  
Dahyun woke to fear in the air. Someone was having a nightmare. The bed in which she lay was so soft. She could hardly get out of bed, but she managed it without falling to the floor. Her body still hurt from the attack. She might feel better tomorrow, but a full healing would still take some time. Perhaps a day or a few more. 

She saw the grey threads writhing in the air. She felt a pang of sympathy. They needed to be woken up. Creeping into the hall, her feet fell silently on the floor. She passed two doors. Cracking the third open, she peeked inside. Sana lay motionless in her bed, but her brow was furrowed. The grey surrounded her. It was her nightmare. 

“Sana,” she murmured. “Wake up.” 

The girl only stirred, but the fear did not subside. If anything, it was strengthening. 

Dahyun shook her by the shoulder, her own seizing up as she pulled on the injury. “Sana,” she repeated. No response.

She felt cold, but she didn’t feel panicked. That was a good sign. Perhaps she could help her. She could do it. She felt like she had to do it. 

Closing her eyes, Dahyun drew on the fear, sucking in a sharp breath as the girl’s terror closed in around her. _Just a bit more_ , she thought. It was the least she could do after all that had been done for her. She pulled harder. Her stomach turned and she drew her hand away. It was shaking. 

She stopped taking in the fear. Darkness fell as she pushed away the emotional world. 

Sana’s breath had evened out. Dahyun was on the floor now. She tried to stop herself from shivering. She pushed herself up, the strain on her injuries causing tears to build in her eyes. 

“Dahyun?” She heard from the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“You had a nightmare,” Dahyun replied, her voice almost steady, “I woke you.” She walked to the door. 

“Then why don’t I feel scared?” Her voice sounded hoarse, deeper than normal. Did she make it higher on purpose during the day?

She chose not to respond to that. “Goodnight, Sana.” She opened the door. 

“Wait.”

Dahyun waited. 

“You took it away, didn’t you?” Suddenly, the girl was in front of her. How she managed to do that after just waking up, Dahyun couldn’t say. Two hands grabbed her own. “You did,” Sana murmured. Then Dahyun was pulled into a hug. “Give it back.” 

“What?” She didn’t know if she should step away or not. It was comfortable to be held like this. It was like some of the ice in her was melting. 

“My fear,” Sana said. “Give it back to me.” 

Dahyun shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that.” 

“You’re lying.” She pulled away just enough to look at her. “Again.” There was sadness in her emotions. If Dahyun looked closely enough, she could see it in her eyes. 

She felt a pang of guilt at that. It was true that she had lied. For this case, it was also necessary, wasn’t it?

“Fear cannot be taken away fully anyway.” _Sometimes it can,_ she added in her head. “So I won’t give it back.” Her body tensed as the grey surged back into her vision. Sana’s grip on her tightened. 

“You’re shaking, your eyes are grey, and you’re starting to smell like death. You're also really cold.” She began to walk backwards. “Tonight, you’re staying here.” Before Dahyun could protest, they were both on the bed and she was still in Sana’s arms. They were wrapped around her waist. “Momo said this helped you, right?” 

She was unsure why she allowed herself to be dragged here. “I think so,” she said. “I fell asleep.” Or had she fainted? She still didn’t know for sure. 

“Okay.” Sana shifted so that Dahyun’s back was to her. “This is fine?” 

“Yes.” She tried to nod, only to find that the girl’s chin was on her head.

“I dream about the night I turned a lot,” the vampire said. “All of us do. I think it’s because it’s the moment we technically died, but didn’t actually. The trauma sticks with you, I guess.” 

“Such things can be like thorns in the soul,” Dahyun replied. 

A small huff. “Aren’t you poetic?” 

“I studied emotions for centuries. It would be unfortunate if I didn’t know how to say it nicely.” 

“Gotcha.” She nudged a leg against Dahyun’s. “So you know how Momo and I were witches?” When Dahyun said she did, she continued, “We had more magic than we do now. I kinda miss those spells, but ironically, you know, even for vampires, life goes on even without magic.”

That struck a cord. Had the two faced similar issues to her? Magic had been a part of them, like Dahyun’s abilities were a part of her. A part which they had lost.

“Long story short, we were attacked by vampires. I know now that magical blood can smell pretty good. The same was for our coven,” Sana explained. “We didn’t stand a chance.” A deep breath. “Momo was badly injured, I was bitten. I knew I would turn, and I didn’t want to then.” Her voice had become shaky. Dahyun placed her hand over one of Sana’s. If it was comforting to her, would it also be the case for the other girl? “A part of me debated not even going through with it. Momo wasn’t going to survive the night. We were too weak for the proper spells, too weak to go out and get what we needed for a potion. We were grieving too.” Deep blue sadness had seeped through. Perhaps Dahyun was overly sensitive due to the fear, but she could feel the heaviness grow in her own chest. 

“Was that when Nayeon found you?” 

“Mina found us,” she replied. “Funny, even though she is older, she was turned at younger age than us. Sometimes acts like it.” A small chuckle. “She convinced Momo to let herself be turned, not the vampire convincing, but the normal one. After that, when we both turned, she showed us how to be a vampire that wasn’t like the ones who’d slaughtered our coven.” She let out a breath. “You can imagine how shocked she was when we still had our elemental magic.” 

“Do you know why you kept it?” Dahyun asked. “Or how?”

“Nope.” Another small laugh. “Not the answer you hoped for, probably.” 

“It’s not bad, sometimes there is no answer.” She had experienced that plenty of times. “And even an immortal must stop questioning at some point.” 

The girl squeezed her hand. “What questions have you never had answered?” Sana’s voice was still deeper than normal. Dahyun found she liked it. 

She thought for a moment. “Why there are two worlds and why there is so much interaction between them.” 

Curiosity blossomed in the air, peppering it with gold. “You mentioned that earlier. You can travel between them?” 

“We are all connected to both worlds, there is no need to travel,” she said. Centuries of her life would need to be distilled into minutes now. Hopefully she could explain it well. “Think of it like a fog you can push and pull into your vision. Emotions live in the fog, including those you feel in the current moment, but also the ones that make you up.” She pursed her lips, watching Sana’s confusion grow a bit. “If I look at your emotions, I can tell this is too abstract, because there’s a dull gold around you. That’s confusion.” 

Gold turned into interest. “And what are the deeper emotions?”

“You have the sadness of an immortal,” Dahyun said quietly. “One that comes when living through eternity. You share it with the other girls, including grief.” Said emotions pulsed within the vampire. She felt the need to make things more positive. “Though what has struck me recently is the happiness and love shared between all eight of you.” A pause. “It’s heartwarming, quite literally. Those are the warm emotions.” She wondered what that meant for her? She was certainly happy to have a place that might eventually be called home, if she stayed that long. If that were the case and she did find a home—then she owed even more to the girls. 

“And fear is cold?” 

The question made Dahyun nervous. How much had she already given away? It dawned on her what she had said after the healing potion. They would know something was very wrong. Sana had also commented that her eyes were grey. Who knew that vampires could be so perceptive? 

Her response was to nod. What else could she do? If she said anything, it would lead to more questions. The questions could only be dangerous. Her responses could only be lies. She didn’t want to lie. Not again. 

“What emotions do you have?” 

_Fear, loneliness, and grief,_ Dahyun thought. “The immortal sadness, less because I stayed among my people, all of whom were immortal.” She winced at the use of past tense again. It would have been much easier in her language. “I have the greatest affinity to tranquility.”

“Right, what you choked us with.” The humour in her words wasn’t reflected in her emotions. Dahyun wondered if Sana realised she couldn’t hide such things with her. She decided not to comment on it. 

“Yes.”Then Sana’s arms tightened around her, but loosened immediately when Dahyun flinched. 

“Sorry,” she said. Then she shifted so that her cheek pressed against Dahyun’s. “Thank you for taking me out of my nightmare,” she murmured. Her voice became softer, oddly restrained. “I want you to know that you don’t have to lie to me.” As she spoke, a new uncertainty entered the air. It was neither fear nor nervousness. She was afraid of what she was saying. Why? 

Dahyun couldn’t say anything. Where was this coming from? How much had Sana truly figured out? 

“You don’t have to tell me everything.” Sana spoke even quieter now. “Just don’t lie to me.”

_____  
Sana woke up to cold arms. She smelled of fresh air and forests and carefully tucked into a blanket. She let out a snort of laughter. She had always thought she was a light sleeper. Guess not, if she missed someone moving away from her arms. She wondered how long Dahyun had stayed. There had been no nightmare. No dreams either. Could the fairy do that too? Or was that just her passive magic?

She got up, replaying yesterday evening in her mind. She remembered her dream, but it didn’t make her so anxious remembering it. Dahyun had done that. She had taken her fear even though that emotion hurt her. Sana felt guilty for going to sleep in the first place. Unlike Dahyun, vampires really didn’t need sleep. They liked to sleep, but they didn’t need it. She really liked sleeping, until, of course, the nightmares came. 

As she got dressed, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d told Dahyun. It made her nervous, but it felt like the only thing she could have told her. She would never say Dahyun had to give anything back, but if she had to, it would be for Dahyun never to lie to her. It was almost like second nature to tell when the fairy was lying. Even if it was a really good performance, she could still tell it was put on. She didn't like when she picked up on it. She didn't know why that bothered her. 

As she walked down the stairs, she heard talking. Most of the girls were already awake. Momo, unsurprisingly, was still sleeping. 

“Seriously? No dating at all?” Nayeon exclaimed. “Isn’t that boring.” 

“Who doesn’t date?” Sana asked.

“My people,” Dahyun replied. 

“Apparently, it’s really rare,” Jeongyeon was frowning, “so is love in general.” 

“Only love in that sense,” the fairy replied. “otherwise, I loved my clan.” 

There it was again. Past tense. She knew that any questions would uncover something painful. Even so, there was a part of her that wanted to know. 

“Do you guys not love at all?” Chaeyoung asked. Then she frowned. “Is no one getting together at all?” 

“Not really. Children are uncommon, I was one of the youngest in my clan.” She was silent for a moment. “There is no dating, romantic relationships, or marriage.”

“What about your parents?” 

She shrugged. “They experienced romantic love at the time, but given the emotion’s potency, they chose to study it together.” A pause. There was a frown on her face. Did she disapprove? Sana hoped she did. Then her eyes flitted between them all. “They separated themselves from it.” She raised a hand and a dark blue shard materialised in it. “There are many ways our magic can be studied. This was one they chose.” It disappeared and her eyes turned the same colour. “You take it out and never consume it again, you might remember that you loved someone, but you will never feel that warmth.” Her voice sounded distant. The scent of mountains had grown stronger. 

“You’re saying they just got rid of their love?” Momo was coming down the stairs. Her face was pinched in a frown. Sana could relate. If Dahyun ever fell in love, would she do that same thing? 

Dahyun nodded. “They shouldn’t have. I…I have given up many emotions in my life. Most were ones I could part with: excitement, boredom, interest, partially because they were ones you could replenish easily,” she said. “At the very least, they kept familial love, so they were never truly empty.” Her gaze turned sombre and she looked to the floor. Sana felt her stomach clench at the sight. This was another painful topic. 

Momo seemed to realise the same. The girl was at her side in a second. “So, how’s it look with you staying?” She smiled warmly. 

Sana realised she wasn’t jealous at the fact that Momo was with her. She was jealous because she herself couldn’t bring herself to stand on Dahyun’s other side. The very fact that she wanted to join the two girls was what held her back. 

The fairy looked taken aback by the sudden levity. “You still want me to stay?” 

“Of course we do!” Jihyo chimed. “You didn’t think we invited you here for a one time stay?” 

“No,” Dahyun pursed her lips, “I just thought it was a decision made on impulse. Yours seemed to be.” She nodded at Nayeon. 

“Rest assured,” she replied with a toothy smile, “we discussed this.” 

She frowned and her cheeks puffed out. It was an adorable expression. Sana had to look away. This was getting ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop herself. Stop herself from what? She didn't know. 

“I just don’t understand why you want me here.” Dahyun looked at each of them, as though scanning their emotions. 

That was another thing that made Sana feel that uncertainty. This girl could see everything. Sana felt more exposed than she’d ever wanted to. Even if she didn’t understand romance, Dahyun’d be able to see every sign of it.

“For starters, you’re great company.” Chaeyoung smiled. 

“But it’s also because you are safer here,” Jihyo said. “And by the time you’re fit to protect yourself, you’ll still have a roof above your head.” 

“And a good company of eight others.” Momo winked. 

“You are sure there are no others who don’t want me to stay?” 

To Sana’s horror, the fairy met her eyes. Her gaze turned even more uncertain. It must have been her mixed feelings, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want Dahyun to stay. 

She was at Dahyun’s side in an instant, taking her hand in hers. She met her eyes, thinking only of the fact that the fairy was going to stay with them. That she wasn’t going to catch up on sleep in a library, that she wasn’t going to be outside all night because she didn’t feel safe enough to sleep. 

Sana smiled at her. It wasn’t forced. “We want you to stay.” _I want you to stay._

As the thought crossed her mind, she felt her chest constrict. There was that same fear she’d felt yesterday with Dahyun. It wasn’t fear of Dahyun, nor was it fear for her. It was fear of what she was feeling. 

The fairy looked back at the rest, before she looked at Momo who nodded. “Alright, then I will stay.” 

Sana could feel her chest swell. She tried to make the movement natural, but she had to let go of Dahyun, put distance between them. She exclaimed about having pancakes in celebration, pulling Jihyo over to make them with her. They still had some leftover batter. 

That uncertainty didn’t fade as breakfast continued. She knew Dahyun was aware of it. Sana saw her glancing at her, an unspoken question in her eyes. Sana looked away every time. She was supposed to be happy. Dahyun had said she was staying. It was what she’d wanted since finding out the girl was a fairy. 

The first thing she did when she got to school was find someone. It could be anyone, boy or girl, just someone who she hadn’t had something with yet. If she didn’t find them, she was open to trying for a second chance. 

“Morning.” She put on her best smile. “You look great,” she told Jennie. It was a shameless compliment, everyone around them would know what her agenda was. Even the girl herself. She liked it. 

“Hey,” she said, a blush already forming on her cheeks, “thank you. Could say the same about you.” 

Sana’s smile widened. The knot in her chest hadn’t disappeared, but this was her always her favourite part about dating: the build up. Maybe that’s why her relationships never lasted long. 

_____  
Momo was surprised when she got into cafeteria. Dahyun was already sitting at their table. 

She grinned, bounding over. “Good day so far?” 

Dahyun smiled. “Yes, you too?”

“Definitely,” Momo rested her chin on the girl’s shoulder, “I’m still so happy you’re staying.” 

“Me too,” she replied. 

Momo beamed at that, pulling away so she could actually see her face. It hit her in that moment. Dahyun wasn’t just pretty. She was beautiful. Something tugged at her chest, it was almost ticklish. It was the same feeling she had when Dahyun had talked about her parents getting rid of their love. Specifically, she’d felt it when Dahyun had said they shouldn’t have done it. That hopefully meant if you fell in love with her, she wouldn’t use it for a science project. 

_If you fell in love with her._ Why would she have that thought? 

“Momo?” Dahyun waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Eh?” She tried shaking off her thoughts. “I’m fine.” 

“You seem confused,” she replied. Concern had furrowed her brow, but there was a gentle smile on her face. “Did you overhear something?” Dahyun glanced around the cafeteria. Right, they were in public. 

“I heard she came to school with them,” someone said. 

“You think she’s dating one?” another asked. 

Momo snuck a look at Dahyun. Her cheeks were definitely red. If she didn’t understand much about dating, why would she be embarrassed at the mention of it? Maybe she was catching on. 

“Yesterday, I would have said Sana, but now,” the person trailed off. 

“My bet’s on Momo, you saw the heart eyes she was giving her.”

Contrary to popular belief, vampires can blush. Momo did just that. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nayeon and Jeongyeon exchange looks. 

“I told you you were famous,” the fairy said. There was a spark in her eyes. Her cheeks were still rosy. “They never stop talking about you.” Then she frowned. “What are heart eyes?”

Momo wanted to hide her face. She watched as her friends burst out laughing. Then she realised someone was missing. She took the opportunity. 

“Where’s Sana?” She forced a chuckle, hoping desperately this would get her out of explaining to Dahyun that she was staring at her. 

“Newest target,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes, “look at the far corner.” 

Sure enough, Sana was sitting closely with Jennie Kim. A girl who seemed cold at first, but when she warmed up to you, was sweet and pretty hilarious. 

“Really? I thought that,” Mina cut herself off, “nevermind.” She ducked her head, but Momo hadn’t missed it when she looked at Dahyun. She had assumed the same thing. Sana seemed to really like the fairy. Especially this morning. Momo had even smelled Dahyun’s scent on her and vice versa, but she doubted they were that close. At least not yet. All of that, but Sana was off flirting with someone else? It was unexpected, to say the least. 

Curious about Dahyun’s reaction, she looked. The girl was indeed looking at the two, but there wasn’t any jealousy. If anything, she looked as she did yesterday when watching the film. 

“So,” Dahyun said. “What are heart eyes again?” Her gaze met Momo’s. It was the physics problem look. 

_Damn,_ Momo thought. She’d have to remember that Dahyun didn’t forget things like that. Not if she was confused about them. “It’s,” she started. If she started stuttering, the girls would never live it down. 

To her relief, Jihyo spoke up. The girl gave the rest a stern look before she started speaking. “It’s like a tender look in your eyes. Sometimes people get it when,” she hesitated, “you really like someone, or something, like your favourite food.” 

Momo was enormously glad about the phrasing. She tried to send their leader exactly that gratitude through her eyes. 

A frown. “So that girl thought you were looking at me like you do food?” Dahyun looked to Momo. “I smell that good, huh?” A broad smile broke out on her face. Then she winked. 

Momo couldn’t deny it, she was so taken off guard. She wasn’t sure if Dahyun’s obliviousness to the world was a blessing or a curse. She laughed instead. Their table joined in, probably snagging the attention of the room again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, among the changing feelings within Saidahmo, there's one constant. Dahyun's staying. This gives the aforementioned feelings even more time to develop, while a few 'domestic scenes' can be explored. Hopefully you'll enjoy that! 
> 
> Anyway, each of the three girls are each seeing different sides to their own feelings. Except for Dahyun, who still isn't sure what exactly she's feeling, Momo and Sana are both realising that they have more than platonic feelings for a certain fairy. Now the question is, are they handling it right?


	9. Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the scene in italics begin, it is violent. Not at a gruesome level (at least compared to what I've read in certain books), but if you're sensitive to that, this is the warning.

When she got into Math, people were staring. Sana looked down at her clothes. They seemed fine, no stains or crumples. She sat down next to Momo. 

“Why are they looking at me like that?” Sana asked in Japanese. 

“Probably because of you and your new girl.” She winked. 

“And that’s important now because?” Sure there had been passing gossip with the others, but not stares like this. Had she missed something with Jennie? Maybe there was a huge breakup the day before? 

“Apparently, people have been pairing us with our new housemate.” Momo shrugged. “I guess they’re surprised with your choice.”

“Are you?”

She gave her a knowing smile. “A bit.” Then she frowned. “I hope you’re not going after someone else, because you think I like her.” 

Sana knew she wasn’t talking about Jennie. “Do you?” Yes or no, she wasn’t scared of the answer. What did that mean if anything developed?

“I don’t know,” she gave her a look, “so if you do know, then don’t let anything stop you.” 

Sana sat back, processing what Momo was saying. It definitely wasn’t a topic for math class, but she wanted to tell her everything. Tell her that she was afraid of what she was feeling. Reassure Momo that if she did feel that way, that was more than okay.

And yet, she couldn’t find the words for that. Instead, Sana just said, “I don’t know either.”

Momo looked surprised. That was when the teacher launched into the new lesson: vectors. It was ironic, considering Sana’s mind and feelings were all over the place—no direction at all. 

For the first time this year (also the years before), she found herself dreading going into Chemistry. She could barely trust herself to speak. What would she end up saying? That wasn’t even counting her feelings, all of which would be sensed by Dahyun anyway. She felt a weird anxiety building up as she walked in. 

“Hi.” The fairy smiled at her, before looking back out the window. Her back was straight and if Sana was seeing right, the shadows under her eyes were already fading. Her hair was taking on a blue sheen. She was breathtaking. 

“Autumn is lovely, isn’t it?” 

“Er,” Sana scrambled for a response, “yes, but spring is better.” Her face was getting warm. She'd been staring. She'd also been caught. Halfway at least.

The fairy let out a small laugh. “Are the seasons in competition with one another?” She looked at her. Sana wanted her brown eyes to change colour again. She wanted to see if they were uniformly blue, or if they were like a spectrum.

“So you don’t have a favourite?”

“I do.” Dahyun paused to look at the window again. “I love autumn, but winter is a close second.” Then she glanced at her. “You seem distracted. Are you listening?” 

Sana wondered what emotion she’d seen. Her face warmed. “Of course.” 

A raised brow. Then her eyes flickered downward. Sana held her breath. “It’s the end of the day, so I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Dahyun said, pointing at her own lips, “but you have a little smudged on the corner.” 

Right. Sana dabbed at it with her finger. That’s what she gets for sneaking away during class, or even in the short break between classes. 

“Anyway,” she shook her head, “People don’t usually listen to me with wonder. You’re sure you’re not just staring?” 

Busted, Sana thought. Her face was heating up. This was exactly the reason why she should have just skipped this class.

“I understand,” Dahyun smiled again, turning her gaze outside again, “it really is beautiful.”

For the first time since she got here, Sana looked out the window. She was relieved the fairy hadn’t meant what she thought she did. “It is.” Fire-coloured leaves were falling, carried gracefully by the wind. Sana could relate, but not to the graceful part. 

Class started. Dahyun was taking avid notes, her handwriting had become even neater. Her eyes were narrowed just a touch, her mind working as fast as her hand was. Then she stopped, the tension in her face disappearing. She leant closer to Sana who did the same. Her scent was light, but that didn’t mean she didn’t find herself breathing a bit deeper. Despite her mess of emotions, she felt at ease when she was beside Dahyun.

“You’re not concentrating,” Dahyun whispered. 

She fought a smile before she replied. “Why concentrate when I can get your great notes?” 

Dahyun met her eyes for a moment. “Don’t forget about the knowledge I hope you accumulated in your immortality.” Then did something unexpected. She winked. 

Sana had to look away. She felt shy. This girl was making her feel like a school girl. Well, technically she was. On the one hand, it made perfect sense to avoid this. On the other, she was being ridiculous. Hadn’t it been just yesterday (technically early this morning) when she’d told Dahyun about her nightmares? Told her her story? Asked her directly what emotions she saw within Sana herself? It was the closest moment to a heart to heart that she’d ever had. She wanted to share those elements of her life with Dahyun and she wanted the fairy to do the same. 

So what did that mean? Sana had pursued and been pursued so many times. This shouldn’t be any different and it wasn’t something she should get herself into. Hell, that was why she’d approached Jennie this morning. Would it help if she took Jennie up on that offer to meet for coffee tomorrow? A part of her screamed at her that she was using the girl. She felt guilty. And yet, if the flirting and the dating could take away the uncertainty she felt now and give her back the confidence she wanted, maybe it would be worth it.

Class ended. Sana got up, packing her things quickly. There was that nervousness again. It wasn’t natural for her. She needed to get away. She was about to leave when a voice stopped her. 

“Are you alright?” Dahyun peered over at her. A kind smile was growing on her face, but her eyes betrayed her concern. 

Sana’s grip on her bag tightened. How could she leave like this? Not to mention, they’re living together now. 

“Never better, just glad class is over.” 

Her eyebrows rose and Sana cursed herself for saying such a stupid lie. She liked Chemistry and Dahyun knew it. Even without her powers, she would’ve have known that. 

“Bad day?” Dahyun asked. 

“Confusing,” she said. That was true.

“What about?” The fairy stood, her bag in her hands. “Seems serious.” She winced as she put the bag over her shoulder. 

She had to turn this around. “Is that fair? You knowing what I feel when I don’t know about you?” Sana said that part quietly. 

Dahyun was silent as they walked out. Had she offended her? “You’re right.”

“What do you mean?” Sana linked their arms. It might have been to steady her before, but she just wanted to be close to her now. Anybody else would say she's sending mixed signals. With Dahyun, however, she didn't know which actions were signals and which weren't. 

They left school. “For those like me,” she said, “our ability was never seen as intrusive. Everyone knew what the other was feeling, and usually no one asked about them.” A frown. “I can’t say I won’t ever read your emotions, because I always see,” she flinched, “almost always see them. What I can do is avoid focusing on them. Think of it like not noticing what someone’s wearing. You know they have something, but you stop noticing it.” Then she nodded, a smile on her face. “That’s what I’ll do for all of you.”

They were walking now. Sana’s plan of going to distract herself had gone out of the window. At least for right now. She wasn’t sure if that annoyed her. Whenever Dahyun started talking about herself, she was hooked. She found every detail of her abilities fascinating and always wanted to know more about her life. 

“So what you’re saying is,” Sana raised a hand from her chest to her eyes, “you’re keeping your eyes up here.” 

The girl brightened, clearly not aware of what Sana had actually referred to. “Exactly.” 

The smile warmed Sana’s heart. She poked the girl’s cheek. 

“You’ve done that before. What does it mean?” She touched her cheek, as if trying to find the meaning that way. 

Sana did it to the other one. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 

She looked even more puzzled. “Then why do it?”

“One, it’s fun.” She did it again. “Two, your cheeks are soft.” She wondered if they’d get even softer. She was still looking pretty gaunt. Hopefully that would change in the next weeks of her having proper meals with them. 

“Alright then.” Dahyun glanced at the forest. A frown appeared. Then it vanished. “I still can’t believe that I’m walking back to a house.” 

“Do you like it?” 

The girl didn’t respond immediately. She took her time whenever she talked. It was like she was always considering what she could say about herself and what information she would keep hidden. Sana wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. 

“I do,” Dahyun finally said. “And you really want me here?” The girl turned a piercing gaze her way. “You seemed like you had doubts this morning.” 

That was an easy question to answer. “Of course I want you here. Momo and I were the ones to bring it up.” 

“Was this before or after the werewolf attack?”

“After you attacked us actually,” she patted her head, “in self defence, of course.” 

Dahyun pursed her lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it was you two earlier.” They rounded the corner. The house’s driveway was coming into view. “I didn’t want to take any chances.” 

“Because you didn’t feel safe.” 

“No,” she said. They hadn’t talked about that day yet. Sana waited for her to continue. “It was probably clear then, but I felt like I was being followed—another thing all of you must consider, while I’m here.” Her hand fiddled with a strand of hair. She glanced down at it, considering something. “I didn't—I actually, uh, couldn’t look back.” 

“What does that mean?”

“Remember the two worlds?” she asked. When Sana nodded, she continued, “If you go deeply into one or the other, that world usually overcomes you. That mostly applies to the emotional one. Sometimes I can’t hear or see anything, a few times I haven’t been able to tell if I was standing or sitting.” A lopsided smile appeared. “That should only happen when you are certain you’re in a safe place, but sometimes my grip can slip.” 

A memory popped into her head. “That time you were looking for the library, you were pretty out of it.” She remembered how glazed over her eyes were. 

Dahyun looked down at her feet. “Yes.” 

“I said your name twice, but you didn’t hear anything. What got you out of it?” 

“I saw your curiosity, so I knew someone had figured out I wasn’t staring at my phone.” 

“Ah,” Sana hummed, “I was wondering why the other people hadn’t noticed. They only looked over when I was trying to get your attention.” The house was full in view. Too soon. 

“I’m unassuming when I’m on my own,” Dahyun smiled, “so I think it was the sight of you that caused them to notice me then.”

“What do you mean unassuming?” Sana frowned. The fairy was anything but. “Do you use magic to do it?” 

"Cloaking magic." She nodded. “We are a people who escape notice well. Usually.” There it was again: the edge of seriousness to her eyes. It alluded to another painful part of her life. One that Sana felt the urge to ask about so that the fairy knew she could confide in her. 

_Not yet,_ she thought. “With your hair, you really escape notice.” She couldn’t resist tucking a strand of it behind the girl’s ear. 

“I do hide well,” Dahyun protested, “perhaps it doesn’t work on those already connected to persuasive magic, but it does on humans and sometimes my own kind.” 

“But mine doesn’t work on you.” 

“Right.” She nodded, her mind clearly working. “I didn’t know why that was, as elemental fae have been swept into a vampire coven before.” A frown. “Though I don’t remember anyone from the mentals being affected. If they had, I do not believe they would have ever admitted it." The frown deepened. "There is pride among the purely mental, as well as my own clan." 

“I wish I had known that,” Sana grinned, “then I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself.” 

“By wanting to see these?” Dahyun returned the smile before she raised her hair to show her ears. They slowly reformed to become pointed. Not extreme, but still elongated. 

Sana resisted the urge to poke them too. “What kind of magic are you using to hide that?” she asked. 

“Illusion,” she replied, dropping her hair, but the ears didn’t become rounded yet. The points poked through here. “The same for my eyes.”

 _And skin,_ Sana thought, recalling the scars. “Why don’t you do it for your hair?” The blue sheen had grown. There were alternating strands of light and dark blue among the grey. 

Dahyun touched it, looking at a part of it. “I might, if it calls a lot of attention.” 

“You don’t have to,” Sana pointed at her own head, “look at this.” 

Dahyun didn’t respond, but her hair turned black. It was a stark contrast to her pale skin. Then it lightened to red. Sana was surprised at the ease with which she changed the colour. A witch's magic usually required a spell or a symbol. This just took a thought. 

“No, you're right,” Dahyun said. “The colour has been changing lately. Perhaps it would be best to look normal. Well, a human sort of normal.” It turned brown. 

“What does the blue mean? You're calm?” 

A smile, but it had a sombre edge to it. “Without the grey, it is naturally a mixture of dark and light blue.”

They reached the door, but Sana didn’t open it yet. “What does the darker shade mean?” 

Dahyun didn’t reply, her eyes staring straight ahead.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, but she really wanted to know. Even so, she knew she was pushing her. Because she knew that, Sana put her key in the lock and opened the door. 

“I can.” A moment passed. “It’s sadness.” With that, she went inside. 

_____

_That year_

_Dahyun couldn’t stop the flow of tears. She couldn’t look away from Teresa. She wasn’t moving, but she was feeling. She was feeling too much. She was being consumed._

_What Dahyun did next was based purely on instinct, not centuries worth of knowledge. She grasped hold of the worst emotions coursing through Teresa. She took them as her own. She was overcome by the consuming heat of her own anger and the cold of Teresa’s sadness._

_It wasn’t working. Teresa’s fear wouldn’t leave her. Dahyun pulled harder on the rest. As soon as her body spasmed, she knew she had taken too much._

_Her vision was overcome with red and blue. She didn’t see the blade of ice._

_Frost seeped into her veins. An elemental fae. There was enough anger in her to stop the ice from spreading too far. She forced the red in her vision into the physical world and into her blood. She cried out. It burned._

_Another blow. This was only a fist. Her body fell to the floor. Moving was difficult. She felt every consequence of her imprisonment. She should have trained her body to react, to act, to fight._

_They were coming closer. Dahyun let herself go further into the emotional world. She saw the triumph of her captors. She grabbed for it. Pride flooded into her. She smiled._

_“Stop her!” someone roared._

_Dahyun felt the magic of a mental fae reaching towards her. She used the strength of their pride to push herself up. She dove away from another attack, reaching out into their emotions in the next moment._

_She forced the mental fairy into a spell of sadness. She watched dark blue ropes curl around their being. She used the opportunity to take more emotions. More. That was what she wanted. Her mind yearned for the emotions that had been stolen from her. She would take theirs._

_The new emotions didn’t overwhelm her. They gave her focus. She saw through the hazes of grief, anger, and fear. Her captors stood, looking at her with what might have been fear. Her smile widened._

_She looked down at her hands, allowing two black daggers of grief to grow._

_When the first attack came, the ice fae, Dahyun was able to dodge and sink a dagger into his chest. The second fae caught her, drawing a shard of something across her stomach. She stumbled._

_The other fairy neared, slamming her foot down on Dahyun’s leg. Something snapped, but she pushed the physical world away from her. Not enough to lose her sight completely, but just enough to escape the worst of the pain._

_She saw that her attacker was enveloped by a layer of sadness. Inside the dark blue cocoon, she saw anger, satisfaction, and the remains of excitement. Dahyun recognised her own emotions within the fae. They had consumed them. The disgust she felt strengthened her anger._

_There was no hesitation in what she did next. She tore away the girl’s emotions, forcing anger into the holes she left. She heard the girl’s screams. It only made her add more. Too much._

_The thud of a body against the floor brought her back. She looked around, seeing that more were coming. The first elemental fae lay dying, tears on his face, while the other was flat on her back. Her eyes glowed red, but there was no expression within them. The mental fae was slumped by the wall, tears running down her face. Teresa was beside her, still motionless. She was still filled with fear._

_She looked back to the newcomers, swaying where she stood. Then she struck._

_The next minutes were a blur for Dahyun. She didn’t know how many she had killed._

_The next moment that she knew for certain was being at Teresa’s side again. She felt invigorated by the emotions flowing through her, having not felt their presence for over a year. Any happiness she might have felt disappeared. She tried to push all of the new emotions into Teresa. The fear within the girl resisted. Nothing Dahyun did could pierce it. She couldn’t even take the fear for herself. Teresa’s skin was grey, her hair was grey, and she was freezing to the touch. Consumed by fear. She was lost._

_As the thought truly dawned on her, Dahyun stood. She felt no anger, no fear, not even loneliness. There was only grief. Grief that was purely her own, one that formed in that moment. It closed around her chest. She couldn't breathe. She had failed._

_Dahyun stumbled to the wall of the corridor, putting out a hand to steady herself. Her skin was slick with the blood of her captors. She fell and did not get up again. The exhaustion of the fighting and the pain of her injuries joined the grief. In her prison, only her sobs broke the deathly silence._

_____  
“What you’re describing is the turning point of English literature!” Chaeyoung’s eyes were wide, clearly eager to discuss art in any of its forms. 

“But it’s written so strange. Little is clear upon first read.” Dahyun frowned. She stared at the text in her hands. The pages were full of notes and highlights. There was a system in them, but nothing that could be figured out at first glance. 

_Physics look,_ Momo thought. She wished Sana was here. They had both picked up on that look. 

Instead, Sana was giggling away with Jennie. That had lasted almost a week now. She really hoped it wasn’t because of Momo. If it was, this had the chance to be the most confusing love triangle. Was it already?

“What do you gave to gain from writing like that?” 

“It’s artistic expression,” Chaeyoung replied. “Without it, the text would lose so much.” 

“‘The play’s the thing/Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the King’,” the fairy said, flicking several pages back, only to point out the line she’d just recited. “I understand he wants to expose his uncle there, but it requires too many associations and translations to comprehend the many lines before.”

“Dahyun-ah,” Momo called, smiling as she did. “I think you just have to accept that it’s like that.” 

The girl’s frown became something awfully similar to a pout. Was this her sulking? Momo found it adorable. 

“Plus, you can’t ask him to change his work, Shakespeare’s dead,” Tzuyu said. “Chaeyoung and I checked.” The way she said it was so matter-of-factly. Some of them chuckled. 

“Anyway,” Nayeon cut in, “don’t think all fiction is like that. Most of the books are written normally.” 

“Fiction?” she repeated. Dahyun pressed her hands to her temple, kneading it. “I thought I’d learned enough about this society.” She looked defeated. 

“Hey,” Momo poked her cheek, “do remember we’ve been around longer. It took me ages to figure out how a radio worked, let alone the old computers.” 

“Modernity is tiring,” Dahyun murmured. Then she rested her head on the table. 

Momo reached out to pat her head. Dahyun leaned into the touch. Something in her chest fluttered at that. She tried to ignore the feeling. 

“Shakespeare died about four hundred years ago,” said Chaeyoung.

“Then this world is confusing,” she grumbled. She spoke softly. Only a vampire would be able to hear those words. Even the werewolves would miss those words. 

Momo saw the eyes on them, but she continued stroking Dahyun’s hair anyway. She’d changed the colour to dark brown. It suited her, but she missed her natural look. This was just another thing she was hiding. 

Then Dahyun raised her head, her brow rising with her. “You said you had to check if Shakespeare was alive, but how old are you if you came too late?” 

“Nayeon is the oldest,” Jihyo said. “A little over four hundred years, same for Mina, but Tzuyu's the youngest with about three hundred.” She spoke quietly, because that really wasn’t something to be overheard by the wrong people. Not even the wolves. 

“Three eighteen,” Tzuyu corrected. 

“And the rest of us are somewhere in between.” Momo knew the year she was born in, but that was simple math she didn’t bother with. Even so, they celebrated the day when their coven became eight. Every year, sometimes twice if they missed out on any other celebrations. 

Her brow raised even higher. Her gaze fixed on the far corner. “So I was tricked,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. 

Momo followed the look. Even from here, she saw that Sana’s cheeks were a bright pink. 

“I think I’m older than you,” she told Nayeon, “though I’ll still use those formalities. It would be strange not to use them as I did before.” The fairy didn't use them much, but when she did, she sounded them out as if they were the strangest words to her. 

“Good,” the semi-eldest grinned, “because I haven’t called anyone unnie in a while.” 

“You’ll still call me unnie?” Momo asked, tilting her head so that they were at eye level. 

The corner of her lip tugged up. “Even though there is an even larger age gap,” Dahyun said, “I’ll make an exception.” 

____  
Dahyun scoured the shelves. The library of the girls was incredible. There was a mixture of modern and older books. It all combined to form a scent and atmosphere that she enjoyed greatly. She ran a finger down the spine of one. It was leather bound, attached to it were several different threads of curiosity, not as much calm. Pulling it out, she looked at the cover. No title. 

“We used that when we were trying to figure out what you were,” a voice said. 

“You did research?” She smiled at the thought. “Is there any information about us?”

“Not much,” Sana said. She didn’t take the book from Dahyun, but she did open it. “Is it true that a vampire fed on one of you?”

She nodded. “My brother. It was one of the few times we went into the human world. I am the one to blame there, because I was convinced knowing human emotions would further my own research. It did,” she frowned, “I saw emotions I had never felt before in potencies I sometimes thought impossible.” It had certainly been a humbling experience, as well as highly informative. Many in her clan hadn't quite understood her fascination, but they had accepted the knowledge she'd gained from it. 

The girl beside her angled her head towards her, her eyebrow raised. “Like love?”

“As well as what I can only describe as desire,” Dahyun replied. “That’s pink. Love is purple.” 

It was probably a subconscious movement, but Sana touched her hair then. 

“It is an interesting combination, your hair and eyes. Unintentional, I assume?” She flicked through the pages of the book. It was all handwritten and letters were slipped between the pages. The texts catalogued different beings, including witches, ancient vampires, elves, and a mysterious people. Her own. 

“Yes.” Sana's voice was oddly quiet. There was uncertainty in her again. It was neither nerves nor panic. Somewhere in between. Why was Dahyun the reason for it? 

Then she remembered what she’d said about looking at her emotions, so she didn’t ask about what she saw. “Well, we had encountered vampires, but only in passing. One rule was that you avoid supernaturals if you ever went out.” She sighed. “But the emotions he’d drawn upon, either to be more energised or aware of them—it strengthened his scent. They didn’t attack us immediately, but when we returned. He was hunting and they ambushed him. He survived, but the venom exhausted him. Days after we left that region, he was still feeling the effects.”

“But it doesn’t kill you.”

Dahyun shook her head. It might not have been the worst of her regrets, but it was the first point in a long list of her failures. Failures to keep those she cared about safe. Would those same failures show themselves here? No matter how many times the vampires said this was a safe place, no matter how safe she felt here, this illusion would break soon. Or it would be broken if she had to tell the truth. She was nervous for the day that would come. She wanted to appreciate being surrounded by…friends. Yes, they were her friends now. She was one for them. At least she hoped she was. 

She must have been frowning, because Sana said, “You know it’s not your fault, right?” It had been. “How could you have known they’d come after you?” 

Dahyun shrugged. “You can tell if someone is hunting you, but I didn’t look hard enough.” Putting the book back, she turned to Sana. The girl was scanning her face intently, yet something had unsettled Sana. There was concern, perhaps for what Dahyun had said, but there was also the familiar nervousness. The uncertainty that had only appeared recently. “Are you alright?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I have the sense that you don’t like being near me,” Dahyun said. “Is it my scent? Are there emotions that slip away from me?” She felt better than she had in weeks, but that didn’t mean her abilities had returned to normal. 

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna read my emotions.” There was a teasing edge to her voice. The uncertainty had strengthened. Was Dahyun asking too much? 

“It’s hard not to,” Dahyun admitted. “But even I’d be able to tell you’re uncomfortable just by your behaviour.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable,” she said, not meeting her eyes. Where had the unwavering forwardness gone? 

“Sana.” She leaned back on the edge of the table. There was time to get the answer. She could wait. 

“I thought you said you’d keep calling us unnie.” A smile appeared. She still wasn’t looking at her. 

“I will if you tell me what’s the matter.”

Her bottom lip jutted out. Nayeon sometimes used that expression when she acted less like the oldest vampire and more like the child of the family. “That’s not fair.” 

Dahyun didn’t respond. Perhaps Sana needed time to phrase it. Dahyun always did. 

It seemed to work. Sana met her eyes briefly, before she straightened. “It’s not that I don’t want to be near you, I,” she cut herself off. Then she laughed. “How do I explain my emotions to someone who can just tell me what I’m feeling.” 

“It’s not that simple,” she replied. “I might be able to see them, but there are combinations that I can’t understand. Take your relationship to Jennie, there are two sets of emotions on either side that combine into something that confuses me.” One was fully involved in the relationship, while the other was attracted, but did not reciprocate most of the emotions. She wondered if that was because of Sana’s immortality—that she couldn’t quite connect with a human. A shame, as Dahyun had found that humans were far more complex than her people had ever imagined. Most of the fae, as well as the elves, did not appreciate this depth to the human race. She hoped they would see that. 

“My relationship to Jennie?” Sana repeated. 

“The students say you’re doing that thing,” she searched for the word, “dating?” 

Another small smile. “You listen to them?”

“It’s difficult not to.”

“Tell me, Dahyun-ah,” Sana said, now meeting her eyes fully, “is jealousy also something you don’t understand?” Even though she hadn’t lost the nervousness, Dahyun saw the confidence rising, as well as the teasing gleam to her emotions. It was mirrored in her eyes.

“I know envy,” she said. “That’s the same thing, isn’t it?” How was this connected to dating? The look in the vampires eyes made her look away. Her chest felt both light and heavy at the same time. She felt that same thing when Momo was close. 

“Jealousy,” Sana drew out the word, “is when you see someone you like with someone else. When you want to be with them instead.” A pause. “And when I say ‘be with them’ and ‘like’, I don’t mean as a friend.” 

She processed the words. “I think I know it. Is that why some look at me weirdly whenever I’m with one of you?” 

“I guess,” Sana grinned, “we’re an exclusive group.” 

She recalled the emotions, considering the combinations. The feeling made her frown. It wasn’t pleasant. Then the realisation hit her. “I’ve felt that before!” 

“Really?” The smile lessened a fraction. “That means you like someone, care to tell?” 

The uncertainty had returned full force. Was it jealousy now that the girl was feeling? Or had Dahyun not fully understood it yet? She reckoned it was the latter. She stopped paying attention to Sana's emotions, having already looked too much. 

“It’s happened more than once.” The memories had two things in common. “First are when I hear certain rumours about you and Momo. Once in the library, I think you were there,” it was a small moment, she barely remembered it, “and again in the cafeteria. When you didn’t sit with us.” 

Sana’s shock remained. She was still silent. 

Dahyun smiled, things were making sense now. If she was jealous, then she ‘liked’ Sana—whatever that truly meant. That would also mean she felt that way for Momo, as the girl also gave her a strange nervousness when she was near. Was it unusual to feel such a thing for two people? “Now I understand.” At least partially. 

The vampire was staring at her, still in a state of shock. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Jihyo called. 

Sana jumped. She looked to the floor. Was her face turning pink?

“You still haven’t told me why you’ve been feeling the way you’re feeling,” Dahyun said, moving towards the door. “But I thank you. Those feelings have been a prevailing mystery to me.” 

____  
Sana was walking home today. There was no rush. All her work was finished and dinner would be in a couple of hours. She’d spent the night somewhere else and had a date today. Weekends weren’t typical for Sana to have a date like that, but she’d scheduled it last minute. Plus, Jennie hadn’t said no. She might have spent today with the girl if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere during their date. The entire date. 

She sighed. That was something she needed to break off. It really wasn’t fair, but she’d needed the escape. At least Jennie had noticed how distracted she was. Hopefully she would already be preparing for the ‘breakup’, if it could even be called that after a few days of dating. Most people hoped Sana would never break things off, but a lot of them knew she would eventually. At least Jennie had a lot of admirers, so if she needed a rebound, she’d have no trouble finding one among them.

This 'relationship' was worse than usual. She had gone after someone without even being remotely interested in them. Just to get away from facing her feelings for another. 

The lights were already on. It was getting dark earlier and earlier now. Ironically, the vampire didn’t like that. She really preferred spring. 

That thought reminded her what Dahyun had asked her in class. She didn't remember what day it was, but she remembered her words perfectly. 

_“Are the seasons in competition with one another?”_

Even so, Dahyun had still said she liked autumn the most and winter second. She hadn’t realised that Sana was admiring the view of the a certain fairy, not the view of outside. That same oblivious fairy was taking up her thoughts even when she was with somebody else. That same fairy had essentially confessed to her yesterday. And she hadn't even known what a confession was. 

Sana groaned. 

“She’s back!” someone sung in the house. 

Sana smiled. Nayeon could be such a child sometimes. None of them would admit it, especially not Jeongyeon, but that part of her could bring the spirits of everyone up. 

“And I’m hungry,” Sana muttered. She was at the door in an instant. She opened it and charged into the kitchen. Someone beside her jumped, their scent even more potent because Sana hadn’t drunk anything in almost twenty-four hours. Her eyes were getting warm. She felt her teeth begin to sharpen. 

“Before you attack one of us, here.” A blood bag was tossed at her. Mina was smiling as she drank from her own, her eyes a soft mint green. 

“So you didn’t have too much fun?” Jeongyeon leered. 

Sana giggled. “Not this time.” Then she turned to the person beside her. “Sorry for scaring you.” She started to drink. 

Dahyun just shook her head. Her eyes lingered on Sana's for a moment. “It’ll be something to get used to," she said. 

The words made her smile widen. Getting used to meant being here for longer. It meant staying. She pushed aside her worries for the moment and moved closer. 

“You better, scaredy-cat.” Sana nudged her with her elbow. 

“What?” Her brow furrowed. Momo called it the physics problem look and Sana couldn’t agree more. 

“Someone who scares easy,” Mina explained. 

She hummed in response, her gaze thoughtful. There was that edge of sadness again. Sana glanced at her hair. It was still brown, but under that illusion it was turning back to blue. Blue meant calm, but it also meant sadness. What did that mean for Dahyun?

“Hey,” Momo said gently, “you okay?” She was eating leftovers from the dinner Sana had missed. It had been gourmet ramen. She almost wished she had stayed. 

Dahyun nodded. Too quickly. “Just wondering about something. Nothing important.” 

Sana felt a tug on her chest. She shouldn’t have, but she was disappointed that the fairy lied, even if it was about something small. Or at least she hoped it was small. 

Sana exchanged a look with Momo who just shook her head. She wanted to tell her about the conversation yesterday. Maybe she would later today. She couldn’t lie, she had a jealous streak, even with the really short-term dates. Somehow this was different. Momo and her seemed to be on the same wavelength when it came to Dahyun. Sana had no problem with it. 

“Today we’re watching Star Wars,” Tzuyu announced. 

“I rewatched it,” Mina added. “It’s not scary.” She nodded at Dahyun with a smile. 

The fairy nodded. “Can we have,” she bit her lip, her eyes glazing over, “popcorn?” 

“Yes!” Sana grabbed her arm. “I’ll show you how to make it.” She pulled her to the microwave. 

“The oven?” She pointed at it. 

“Microwave.” Then she explained the settings and how you do _not_ forget to take off the plastic. 

As the machine started to work, Dahyun stared at it. “So heat just makes the seeds transform?”

“Basically.” Of course Dahyun would need to know the science of popcorn. “Heat evaporates the water in the kernel, pressure increases, and it goes,” Sana stepped closer to her, “pop!”

The other girl only nodded, but there was a smile on her face. 

“Since when did you become an expert?” Jeongyeon gave her a look. 

“Since Google,” Sana replied. Sometimes she had so much time on her hands that she just explored any questions she had. The vampiric memory might have been a curse sometimes, but she was still impressed by the information she retained. “You’ve heard of Google already, right?” 

Dahyun nodded. “One of the first things I learned about when I came here was the internet."

“Not movies?” Sana asked. Or love, or food?”

“The basics of modern science could be found there,” she said. “As well as the main events of your history.” The machine beeped. “I might have had the money for books, but I did not understand libraries yet.” 

_Might have had the money._ How had she made any in the first place? 

“Speaking of modern science,” Tzuyu called. “It’s time for the movie. Dahyun-unnie can’t miss the beginning.” 

The fairy looked at the youngest, her eyes wide. The movement was slow, but the corners of her lips tugged up. 

“On my way.” Dahyun went over, her movements flowing easily. Fairies must have had the innate elegance of elves too. Sana was surprised she hadn’t noticed that sooner. 

Nayeon coughed. “Heart eyes,” she muttered. 

Sana shook out of her daze. She looked between Momo and Nayeon. Momo was blushing, while the eldest had a smirk on her face. 

“What did you say?” Sana asked.

The smirk widened. “Dahyun can tell you all about that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flashbacks that I've been including are certainly not the full story, but they are necessary to forming a picture of what has been (and still is) haunting Dahyun. To clarify, Teresa succumbed to something I can only describe as an emotional coma. Dahyun could not get her out of it. 
> 
> To focus on the lighter aspects of the chapter, I couldn't resist bringing the heart eyes back into the picture, but in regards to Sana. On another note, Sana and Momo are facing a few uncertain feelings (including ones of uncertainty, particularly for Sana), while Dahyun is learning about those emotions through them. Was what Dahyun said in the library a confession, a consequence of her cluelessness, or a bit of both?


	10. Try the beginning

The town’s bookstore was filled with calm. It was exactly what a library should be like, but this one sold you the books. She turned to thank Momo for bringing her here when school ended, but was stopped by the look in her eyes. 

“I mean this in the best way possible,” said the vampire. “But you are such a nerd.” Momo poked her cheek. 

Dahyun laughed. “You’d know why if you felt the same thing I did.” Then it dawned on her. “Perhaps you can.” She held out a hand. 

“Really?” Momo didn’t hesitate as she put her hand in Dahyun’s. If she was reading her expression correctly, there was only trust in her eyes. It both warmed her heart, but also reminded her that she was still hiding so much. What would the girls say if she told them everything?

“Wait,” she said before closing her eyes. Going into the emotional world, she took hold of some of the calm. She let it blossom. Then she passed it to Momo. She heard her sigh. Wonder accompanied the newfound peace. 

“Wow.” 

Dahyun forced her eyes to become brown again, then she opened them. She saw that Momo had also closed her eyes. She wore a serene smile on her face. Dahyun knew then that she never wanted to forget this moment: watching someone she trusted wholeheartedly experience a piece of the emotional world. Her recent realisations about feelings only strengthened the value of this moment. Her eyes burned at the possibility that it might be fleeting, but she let herself enjoy this warm feeling. Let herself enjoy this time with Momo. 

“Okay, I get it.” The vampire grinned. It was such a bright expression that Dahyun had to return it. “Now, let’s get what we came here for.” Their hands were still connected. She liked it. 

Momo dragged her to the section titled: Fiction. It had taken all of lunch today for the girls to explain to her what that truly meant. She had had some understanding for it, especially though literature class, but it still took her time to wrap her head around it. Nayeon and Jeongyeon had been very much in favour that she just accept that it was made up. Tzuyu had been adamant that she learn what science fiction was (apparently not all scary). 

“You never told me what story type you like,” Dahyun said. Her voice was barely a whisper, but she knew the other girl would be able to hear it. 

Momo looked back over her shoulder. “It’ll surprise you, but I really like romance.” 

Her eyes were pink. Dahyun still didn’t know if that tied her closer to desire, or if it was just a coincidence. She wondered why Momo didn’t have someone in her life. Perhaps relationships with humans were always fleeting due to their mortality, but why hadn’t she met an immortal and ‘fallen for them’, as some of the other girls had? She hadn’t needed to understand love to know it existed between Nayeon and Jeongyeon, as well as a blossoming one with Mina and Chaeyoung. It was difficult to pick up on, as she didn’t know the little giveaways, and not much ever seemed to match the romance movies.

The thought of Momo finding someone gave Dahyun an echo of that feeling—jealousy. Did she want to be that immortal? It would be impossible. Wouldn’t it? Her kind had rarely interacted with the world, let alone found love in it. If they had, it would have been taken out, by themselves, and used for research. From what she had seen of love, she didn’t know if she’d be able to give it up. Not voluntarily at least. 

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time, Dahyun asked, “why?” 

“It’s lighthearted, even if it’s sad. There’s something about watching two people fall in love that I just, well,” she chuckled, “love.” She turned to look at her. “Did you figure out the genres you wanted to check out?” 

“Fantasy,” Dahyun replied. “Magic in a different world, with different rules,” she struggled to find the words, “I just want to see how that can work.” How could there be so many individuals capable of making their own magic? Magic had rules in Dahyun’s world. It existed just as the laws of physics did, but this magic existed on the pages of a book. She was excited to see how that worked. 

“I know just the thing.” They started walking through the shelves. 

Dahyun let herself be pulled along. Momo had an unbridled enthusiasm and it was contagious. She admired her for it. That gave her pause. If someone like Momo knew what Dahyun had done in her life, what she had done in the past year, not decades or centuries, she would be appalled. Doubt came over her like a wave. Why had she agreed to stay with them? Disappointment would inevitably come.

“Hey,” a squeeze of the hand, “everything okay?” Momo was scanning her face, a frown threatening to form. Dahyun was catching on to facial expressions. 

“Just thought of something,” she said. “So, what books did you have in mind for a beginner?” 

She didn’t look convinced, but didn’t pry. Dahyun appreciated it. “The classic would be Harry Potter. It’s about a magic school, but I’m not sure if they have fairies in there. There’s one mention of a vampire, but it’s not great,” she wrinkled her nose, “there’s also The Hobbit, which has elves, and is one big adventure.”

Digging around in her bag for her wallet, she said, “I can try both, can’t I?”

“Of course.” Then she winked. “Just know that there are seven books for Harry Potter, and another trilogy in the world of The Hobbit.” Dahyun must have looked confused at the word ‘trilogy’, because Momo added, “Three more books.” 

The vampire gave her a small tour to show her what the different genres actually looked like on the shelves. Then they paid and left the shop. 

“I’m still feeling calm, how long does that last?” 

“Does it bother you?” Dahyun was ready to take it if it unsettled her. 

“Nope!” Momo grinned. “I like it. It’s like what I feel around you.” 

“You feel calm around me?” That was unusual. Her aura was a subtle one, nothing to notice unless you had a strong connection to the emotional world. “Do the others notice?”

She shrugged. “I know Sana and I do, you can ask the rest later.” 

“You’ve talked about it?” That was something encouraged. In the few romance movies she’d seen, honesty and communication were crucial to the film coming to an end. It was also important, apparently, to the relationship. Did that apply to other human relationships? Her people might have valued communication, but they still did not do it as was done in the films. 

A small smile appeared. There was a hint of nervousness in the air. “A little.”

Dahyun felt the urge to reach out, so she took the girl’s hand. 

Momo’s eyes widened ever so slightly, but she squeezed back. A smile was growing on her face. It was beautiful. 

That was when she felt it, something immortal. Something predatory. It had found its prey. She let go of Momo, the latter’s carefree attitude had disappeared. The air had turned cold. She was already poised to fight without knowing who might be after them. Dahyun knew then that she couldn’t let anything happen to the vampire. 

She looked to the left, out and into the trees. She couldn’t see a figure, but she saw the emotions flowing through the air. She reached out and pulled on their hunger, pink and red, drawing it closer to her. Then something knocked her flat on her back. There was something warm on her neck. Blood. 

Dahyun put a hand to her neck, her fingers tracing whatever had cut her. The marks were laid out as a mouth was. They had bitten her. A vampire. 

She felt lethargic, each limb of hers was heavy, but she saw the emotional world in perfect clarity. Only her eyelids wanted to close. She reached for the presence without the excitement and happiness of Momo. Her ears could only faintly hear the sounds of fighting and ice shattering. She needed to know why they’d been attacked, so there would be no emotional coma for the attacker. Not yet. 

The easiest emotion to transform was her attacker’s focus—the calm they found in the chase. She brought the emotion into the physical world, knowing blue ropes would have formed around the vampire's arms, legs and neck. Dizziness overcame her, but she forced herself to stand. She fought the urge to throw up.

Her vision cleared and she saw Momo grasp the vampire by the throat. Her eyes were not glowing, but Dahyun could see the anger circling her, but also fear. Ice had crawled up the other vampire's neck and wrapped around his arms and legs. It joined the ropes of calm. 

“And you’re sure the venom isn’t poisonous?” Momo's voice was strained. 

“Yes,” Dahyun said. “It just makes me tired.” _And sick, and dizzy,_ she thought. Momo didn’t need to hear that just yet. 

Momo. She could have gotten hurt. The prospect made Dahyun’s stomach twist even more. 

She took a good look at the attacker. He looked young, but his emotions said otherwise. His eyes glowed red. She could see her blood trickling down his chin.

“Wow,” he said, “they didn’t lie about your blood.” His voice was heavy from the calm she’d caught him with. He was shivering too. She didn’t know vampires could get cold. 

They. Dahyun hadn’t forgotten she was hiding, but she had gotten less cautious. She had felt something off in the forest, but done nothing about it. That must have been the vampire. He hadn’t noticed her then, but maybe he had caught on to her scent among the trees. 

Her chest tightened. Another one had found her. It would only be a matter of time until the rest came as well. People could get hurt. The girls could get hurt. She needed to leave before that happened. 

“How did they know I was here?” Dahyun asked. Her magic didn’t act in a way that could be traced. She had taken all possible precautions. Or so she had thought. 

“They didn’t,” he replied. “But some of their scouts never came back. They gave us your scents and the general area. I got Korea.” 

Helen. That mercy hadn’t come back to haunt her at least. They were employing the help of vampires. Was it out of desperation or was it part of the ongoing hunt? 

They might have put a tracker on him. Would they really trust him to deliver the message they wanted? She brushed past Momo and scanned the vampire, searching for traces of magic. There was a charm. It glowed pink in the emotional world. She picked it up. It was almost devoid of the person who had felt it before, but she recognised them immediately. Teresa. 

“Your payment?” She raised it to his eyes. Teresa had ‘liked’ her brother. That memory might have made her smile if she wasn’t terrified of what this meant. They were distributing emotions in the human world, something her clan had sworn off. It was dangerous to expose people to what they didn't understand, especially if the thing they were exposed brought about positive effects. Those people then wanted more, unaware of what that could lead to, what that could cost. 

“Pretty little thing, isn’t it? Works even better than persuasion. Both sides get an equal dose.” A lazy smile.

“I’m sure.” She crushed it, destroying the magic that bound the emotion. She didn’t absorb the emotion. She couldn’t. 

He snarled, but Momo’s hold on him was unmoving. Dahyun forced more calm into his restraints, watching his eyes droop as she did so. She didn’t dare look at the other girl. What would be going through her mind? How many secrets were coming to the forefront today? How much of Dahyun’s true nature would she see?

She pushed the doubts from her mind. There was another emotional talisman, one for excitement, which she also destroyed. It was leftovers from her own, so she absorbed it. The fatigue pulled at her, urging her to give in, but she drew on his anger. It burned, but she was able to focus. Then she pulled the physical world towards her, hoping to detect whatever magic still surrounded him. There was magic in his mind. That was how he was connected to them. They would know he found her. Whether or not they knew where exactly he was, she couldn’t tell. This needed to be quick.

She pressed on his emotions. It would guide him into a state of humility, one where he could more easily tell the truth. “Why would you come alone?”

“They said you were weak,” he muttered. “Something about last year having taken its toll and that just startling you would do the trick.” 

Dahyun felt something stir in Momo. It was a mixture of shock and anger. At the vampire? At her? She didn’t want to look. It would be a small wonder if the girl wasn’t feeling betrayed. All of her coven would. She felt saddened at the fact, but she began to prepare herself that she would be living alone again. It would be best for all of them if she left. 

“I am weak,” she said. With that, she murmured an incantation to make the vampire sleep. 

For a moment, she debated taking his emotions. She decided against it. It was not right. 

“If you want to question him, you must do it quickly and somewhere where you will not be easily located.” She got to her feet, fighting the urge to sit back down. At least the nausea had passed. “There is a tracking spell in his mind. I do not think it will give them a direct path to you, but they will know your face. For that, and a great deal more, I am sorry.” She still couldn’t look at Momo. There was so much confusion in the other girl. The hurt would come later. She was sure of it. 

What she decided to do next was find her bag, which had either fallen off her shoulder or been torn off of it when the vampire attacked. She found it behind her, some of its contents spilled out, including empty potion vials. Right, she had forgotten to replenish her potions stock. That would be her priority today. 

She knelt down, feeling her legs sag underneath her. It was unsettling how tired she was. Her nose scrunched up. There was a tugging sensation on her eyes. Were tears going to fall now?

There was a harsh sound. She looked, only to see the vampire crumble to dust. Then she returned to the tasks at hand. In her bag. She had her potions, her grey clothes, and her books. Her other things were still in her locker. She was glad she hadn’t left anything in the girls’ house. There would only be traces of her emotions. Those would have to be taken away as well. 

“Dahyun.” Her name was said softly. How could Momo still do such a thing? Did she not know that Dahyun didn’t deserve it? Yes, she didn’t know. None of them did. 

She didn’t stop packing. Somewhere she had something for energy. She was sure of it. Her hands trembled. It must be the venom affecting her nerves. Her vision was blurry. Her eyes were burning. 

“Dahyun.” Momo's voice sounded steady. She wished she also had that strength. She would need it. 

“I’ll leave,” Dahyun said. “If I go, they’ll know they can’t reach me through you. We don’t usually leave trails like that.” Her voice shook. 'Trails' was the wrong word to use, but that would be how the other fae saw it. Unless they saw that she was gone, they would go to the vampires first. She didn't want to think about what they could do. 

Then hands closed around hers, stilling them. “Stop. Breathe.” 

Dahyun shook off Momo's hands and continued to pack. “Tell the other girls what happened. Make sure you’re all together. Keep away from the fae you see, be cautious if you find someone who has a smell eliciting an emotion. They may or may not be sympathetic, though I’m sure you’ll know the difference.”

“Dahyun,” gentle fingers grasped her chin, “look at me.” 

She did. Momo’s eyes were a deep brown. She did not see hostility, but she would have to look further. She found she didn’t want to. The sight of kind eyes directed at her was something she wanted to keep in her mind. Not eyes full of judgement. Or even distrust. It couldn't have been genuine. 

“You’re not leaving.” 

“Don’t be kind to me.” Dahyun closed her eyes. Tears fell down her cheeks. “Don’t pretend." 

“I’m not.” The hand left her chin. Arms wrapped around her. “You can see my emotions. I’m not pretending.” 

“Then you haven’t understood,” she tried and failed to move away, “my presence is a danger to you all. None of you know who you’re trying to protect, nor do you know from whom.” 

“Tell us, then,” Momo murmured. A hand stroked her hair. 

She shook her head. “Let go of me.” Any more contact like this would make her want to stay. 

“Not until you calm down.” 

A laugh escaped her lips. The irony. 

“Bind my wrists in those ropes, stop me from leaving that way. It’ll do the trick, I promise.” She knew she sounded hysterical. She was hysterical. 

“I might,” Momo whispered. “But you didn’t breathe.” 

“I will if you let go.” She tried to push her away again, only to get a crushing hug in response. Momo was stubborn. She knew this already. “Now I really can’t breathe.” The hold on her did not lessen. Dahyun sighed, then took a very deep breath. 

Her grip loosened. She pulled away until she was looking straight at her. “Was that so hard?”

Dahyun gave her what she hoped was a glare. She must have failed, because Momo smiled. There was also a brief flash of humour.

“If you tell me you’re leaving, I’m giving you another hug.” 

She scowled. “I could just run away in the night.” 

“We’re vampires, remember? We’ll just stay up with you.” 

Dahyun would be able to sneak away anyway. “So you’re keeping me prisoner.” If she had said those words to a stranger, the prospect would have terrified her. Despite her experience in being imprisoned, she was grateful that she could find humour in the idea. 

“Basically,” Momo said. She smiled at her brightly.

Dahyun took another breath. It would be worth the risk to tell them the truth. Nothing that would endanger them, but enough to make them understand. It was the least she could give them after all the help they had given her. Once she told them her story, she knew they would turn her away. It would be an act wrapped in sweet words and kind expressions, but their emotions would betray them. She could already see their anger at being lied to, being misled. Perhaps they would feel disgust once they heard of her failures. She would not blame them for any of it. 

“Make sure everyone is there,” Dahyun said. “I promise you I will come to the house and explain everything. I just need to go to school first.” If all went as she expected, she would leave tonight. 

Dahyun was glad she was walking this route alone. She took the time to replenish her healing potions. There were no key ingredients in the forest, so she made do with what the pharmacies and supermarkets had. If she had gotten the mixture right, they would be half as potent as the ones she’d brought with her. So she had made twice as many. 

When the effects of the vampire venom left her, she would take the time to perform the necessary rituals to summon the correct ingredients. Her money was running low, but she would find ways to make more. There was enough to leave Korea by sea, according to the internet. She had used the plane when she had come here, which had been a terrifying experience. The highest she had ever been before was a mountain, which had itself been on the shorter side, but no less frightening to her. 

She had changed into her normal clothes, her coat over it, but her feet bare. If she needed to run, it would be better to do so without shoes. Her school uniform was being used to cushion the glassware in her bag. If she was attacked by again, her potions were sure to survive. She couldn’t say the same for herself. 

The sky was turning dark. Winter was truly coming. She felt the chill of it underneath her clothes. It was that chill that kept her alert. She was even more watchful now, almost paranoid. Any emotion that seemed wrong made her tense. In her hand was a dagger of black grief. Aside from fear, it was one of the debilitating emotions. Few could fight its grips. Dahyun wasn’t one of them. She might have to try and change that. Long-term exposure to small amounts would help. To a degree.

Then her phone rang. She let it ring once, already having an inkling for who it was. 

“Hello?” 

Nayeon’s voice filled her ears. “You’re coming, right?”

Dahyun smiled. She could see the girl’s stern gaze on the other side of the call. “Yes. Can’t you hear me?” She dropped the illusions over her footsteps. 

“Now we can.” 

A heaviness settled over her chest. Her footsteps had been silent, even for the vampires. So if she ended up having to sneak out, she’d be able to. There was little doubt in her mind about the ending to this evening. She would be leaving them. They would want her to go after she explained why she was here. A part of her longed to stay. She pushed it down. 

“See you soon,” Dahyun said. She hung up. The dagger of grief disappeared from her hands. She felt pain and her eyes burned, but it passed. Then she started walking again. 

The anticipation of the eight girls lit up the air around the house. Her legs felt weak. She wanted to turn away. This was her last chance to get far away before they realised she was gone. She even stopped to consider the option. 

“Dahyun, if you don’t come in right now, I will come after you!” She heard Chaeyoung shout. 

Tears threatened to fall. She held them back. Remembering Momo’s words, she took a deep breath. She let her feet brush over the ground as she neared the door. Without delay, the door opened to reveal Sana and Momo. She saw the relief on their faces. How long would that last? 

“Hungry?” Momo asked. “We ordered pizza.” 

She was, though she had the feeling that if she ate another meal in this house, the desire to stay would strengthen. How had she come to this point? Unwilling to leave a house full of vampires. “I’m not hungry,” Dahyun lied. Sana’s plea returned to her then. 

_Just don’t lie to me._ A

That same girl nodded. There was no suspicion in her eyes. Sana hadn’t noticed the lie. “You look cold, come on.” She walked out and hooked her arm through Dahyun’s. Momo did the same on her other side. Dahyun wished she didn’t have to leave. 

They went in. The other six sat down either on the floor, on the sofa or the chairs. The sofa had space more than large enough for three. Sana and Momo sat, Dahyun still in between them. Everything was too comfortable, too warm—she deserved none of it. 

“Any questions?” Dahyun asked. 

“We’ll save that for later,” Jihyo said. She wore a reassuring smile.

Dahyun clenched her fists, forcing the calm within her to come to the forefront. It made her vision blue. She knew her eyes would be the same colour. She didn’t bother hiding it. “I don’t know where to start.” 

“You could try the beginning,” Sana said softly. 

Taking another breath, she let herself tune out the expectant faces of other eight people. She wouldn’t be able to start, let alone finish speaking, if she had to watch those expressions as they changed. 

“I don’t know when the fighting began exactly, but when it grew to levels that could no longer be ignored, we knew it was time to act. All I will say about that is that no side was wholly in the right.” Dahyun looked down at her hands, clasping them together so that they would not shake. “We dispersed into the human world four years ago. That is, my clan, the people who are connected to the emotional world.

“We were the main targets of the hunt—myself and another. The others knew that we were the youngest in the clan and thought we would be the easiest targets. I suppose they were right, as T…Teresa and I were captured. We’d only been in hiding for a year. Our captors, emotional and mental fairies, had discovered a way to extract emotions. We were the first to experience this process."

Dahyun tried not to dwell on the memories that came to her. Her mind felt cold. The emptiness had risen to the forefront. 

"We existed between the worlds, but didn’t feel anything," She said. "You begin to feel again over time, I still don’t know how. Our mistake was to assume we were strong enough to escape as soon as we began to feel again.” She closed her eyes. Had they waited, Teresa would still have her life. “Teresa killed one of our captors, but we were overpowered before we got any further. They took our emotions again. Teresa remained conscious in that time, managing to gather enough of herself that she could maintain her physical strength, in addition to her mental. I,” she trailed off. 

Honesty. That was what she owed them. But she wouldn’t tell them the terrible details. Not the ones that would only lead to pity. Pity would cloud their judgment. What she said now would need to show them what she was really like. 

“I did not share that determination. I couldn’t handle not feeling anything. It was foolish of me. Cowardly too. But when I woke up, I did everything in my power to ensure she would be the one to survive.” She chose not to tell them how. Not to tell them the emotions she had given Teresa, ones she would never be getting back. “As you can see, I failed.” Her eyes burned. This was the story she had never wanted to tell. “Our second attempt to escape was also cut short. Rather than take our emotions, they used the opportunity to employ a new breakthrough.

“They had found a way to force emotions into the emotional world again after they’d been brought out of it. Consuming emotions as food has similar effects, but it is far less effective.” Screams echoed in her mind. “What cost Teresa her life and spared me mine was chance. They had taken our negative emotions, but never consumed them. That meant they were able to put their entire stock of fear into her and all of the anger into me. Both caused pain, they knew this much, but they did not know that fear freezes, while anger energises.” The bodies of her fellow fairies flashed across her eyes. “They took her emotions first, leaving her only with fear. She was lost to it. I alone escaped. I killed the fae who had captured us. I—“ A sob tore through her. “Even though I told my clan what had happened, the exact condition she was in, the…they couldn’t find a way to take her from the fear. She lay there, unable to move, unable to experience anything but fear. It was pure suffering.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. She let them fall, gritting her teeth. She had come too far to stop now. “I could not save her. I kill…k-killed Teresa.”

A breath. She needed to breathe. She unclasped her hands. They were sore from how tightly she’d been gripping them. 

Dahyun held them to her face, trying to cool it, and stop the constant flow of tears. The room was silent. 

Then she continued. “I thought I would have a year here, but they have found me twice. The first was an elemental fae, Helen," she shut her eyes again, "one who I also killed. She had with her a talisman. It worked like a poison and I was infected with fear.” Then she stood. “You know the rest.” With that, she walked out of the living room, not looking at any of them. She could only feel their shock. She didn’t want to look any further. 

Jihyo spoke first. “You didn’t let us ask our questions.” 

Dahyun stopped. She waited. A delay for clarifications. She owed them that too.

“Why are you leaving?” Mina asked. Her voice sounded shaky. 

“They found me.” She forced her eyes to stare at the door. Her hands were itching to open it. 

“You already said they did when Helen came,” Tzuyu said. 

“She had no magic on her to expose where I was. They learned their lesson, so they tapped into the vampires’ mind. I don’t know what they will do next, but it is unwise to patiently wait for next time.” Would it be the last time? 

“And what gives you the better chances of survival?” Nayeon asked. “Being by yourself, or with eight vampires?”

“You said it yourself, they’ll avoid confronting us,” Chaeyoung added. “If they find you alone, you’ll have no chance.” 

“Don’t underestimate me.” Dahyun walked to the door, putting her hand on the handle. 

“Don’t underestimate us,” Jeongyeon shot back. “We can protect ourselves and you.” 

“No, you can’t. Not both,” she retorted. “Those who are after me possess years of knowledge that can be used against any creature.” She winced as her mind summoned the worst possible scenarios. “Centuries of your lives will be reduced to nothing.” 

“And what about yours?” Sana’s voice was quiet, but the room’s silence made it all the more pronounced. “That’s also got centuries to it, last time I checked.” 

“You can’t risk anything for someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” she repeated. 

_A murderer,_ Dahyun thought. “If that’s all of your questions answered, I need to go.” It was getting late. It was getting colder. And she was nearing a breakdown. Again. 

She pushed down on the handle. Cold air struck her face. 

“I don’t believe you.” Momo’s voice froze her in place. It was the most serious that Dahyun had ever heard it. “You’re not running because you don’t feel safe here. I don’t need to be able to read your emotions to know that'd be bullshit.”

Nayeon chimed in then. “And if you really didn’t feel safe here, you would have never come here tonight.”

“And I shouldn’t have.” 

A hand closed around her own. “Do you think we’ve never regretted what we’ve done in our life? You said it yourself, we’ve lived centuries.” Momo came to stand in front of her. 

“This is not the same.” 

Sana spoke up. “It is. You’re leaving because you’re ashamed.” 

Her anger flared. She tore her hand away. “Of course I am,” she snapped. “I murdered several of my own kind. Helen, who was younger than I was, was not ready to die. Even if there were peace, I would never be be allowed to return, not even as a corpse.” All of them flinched.

“So what’s the point of running?” Momo asked. “You’re immortal so when does the running stop?” 

_When I am dead._ Dark thoughts entered her mind, but she refused to entertain them. 

It must have dawned on Momo and Sana as well, because she saw their horror. She even recognised it in their eyes.

“That isn’t your concern.” Then she let her cowardice take over. Dahyun pushed past them, stepped out of the house. She pulled on all emotional traces of herself. The calm there steadied her unstable breathing. It did not stop her tears. 

They called her name, but she didn’t hear them follow. Either that, or she was too far away from the physical world to hear anything. 

She ran for the forest, forcing the anger she’d felt to expand. It helped against the cold and brought her some solace from the sadness crushing her chest. And yet, it also burned. 

“Dahyun!” someone called. They had followed her. 

She kept running, but two people appeared in her way. She stumbled as she stopped, nearly knocking into Sana. 

“I can’t outrun you,” Dahyun gasped. Her chest heaved. Was she so unfit or was that the consequence of crying? “So get out of my way and don’t you dare follow.”

“And what if we do?” Momo asked. “Are you going to restrain us with calm?”

She didn’t want to. She didn’t even know if she could bring herself to do it. “If I must.” 

“Could you let us talk?” Sana asked. “We asked our questions, but you never let us tell you what we thought.” 

“I don’t need to hear it.” 

“Actually, you do.” The girl’s anger rose. “You’re convinced that you have to leave, because you think you’re not welcome here. You think everything has changed, but that’s not true.” Her eyes were gleaming. Tears. Momo’s face was also splotchy. 

Dahyun didn’t respond. This was their confusion. It had to be. 

“You’re acting like we won’t care about what happens to you. Like it won’t matter to us if you’re alive or,” Sana's breath hitched, “dead.” 

“But it does matter,” Momo said. “And we do care. All of us.” The ice in her voice had melted. 

“Look at our emotions,” Sana urged. “Turn over every little piece of you still don’t believe us.”

Dahyun wished she could move. She could only stand there, staring. The girls just waited, their gazes expectant, but they didn’t say anything. She had to close her eyes. Close them to block out trusting eyes, ones that were too blinded by other emotions to see her for what she saw. 

In the emotional world, they were like the human invention of kaleidoscopes. There was confusion, hurt, a deeper sadness, and frustration. No disgust. Dahyun looked further, tugging carefully at the emotions directed at her. What she saw made her gasp. There was pink desire and flickers of purple love; the beginnings of something she still had yet to understand. What really gave her pause was the happiness she saw. It was bright, unbelievably so.

Pushing the emotional world away, she felt dizzy. The sight of such powerful emotions, emotions caused by her—it was all too much. And it didn’t make sense.

Or at least, it shouldn’t have. Dahyun knew she had those same emotions, all directed at the vampires. They were emotions that had been working against the poison of fear: love and happiness. 

She blinked, feeling thick tears run down her cheeks. She’d thought the pain of leaving would only affect her. It would have more consequences than that. Wasn’t it too soon? She had been here, what, weeks? A month? She didn’t know, but not long enough for these emotions to set in. At least not on their side. All of the kindness, all of happiness they had brought to her life—all of it had made it so much harder not to love being with them. Or was she starting to love them? That was more plausible.

But it still didn’t make sense on the other side. She had not done anything to earn those emotions. She’d done nothing that would, or should, deserve the love of another. It couldn’t make any sense. 

Very soon, two sets of arms were around her. She’d sunk to her knees while looking through their emotions. Both were crying, both clung to her tightly. 

Dahyun was so confused. How could they have something so precious due to her presence? The emotions weren’t even being tarnished by the new emotions. How could they still feel happy just being around her? How could they still be starting to love her? If she left them now, what would that do to them? There would be doubt and pain. The early emotions were sometimes the most vulnerable. She couldn’t leave. Not yet.

“I hope you know why we don’t want to let you go,” Momo muttered. 

She let herself be held. The events of the day washed over her. Dahyun leaned her head on someone’s shoulder, knowing she’d be asleep in a matter of seconds. In her mind, she made a promise. A promise to do everything in her power to protect these girls. They were immortal yes, but that meant they would have the time necessary to heal. She would stay. For the time being.

“Yes, I think I do.” Even if she didn’t understand how or why. She knew. 


	11. Almost perfect

Momo was carrying Dahyun, but Sana held one of the fairy’s hands in her own, stroking her hair as they went. It was a deep shade of blue. Sadness was what Sana had said the colour meant. Momo couldn’t stop scanning the girl’s face, upon which scars had spread the moment she fell asleep. She couldn’t even guess how those had gotten there. The sight saddened her, but it also made her angry. 

“Do you think they did that to her?” Sana’s hand paused at the scar across Dahyun’s jaw. A part of Momo expected her to be jealous of the tender look in the girl’s eyes. The other part thought this all felt completely normal. 

“If not them, who else?” She hardly knew who "them" was, only that they were Dahyun's own people. 

A sad smile. “Another story for another day?” The smile faded. “Or never.”

“What makes you say that?” Momo could hear the distant murmurs of the girls. Dahyun had run surprisingly fast and far. She’d thought they were going to have to tackle her at one point. She was glad they hadn’t needed to. 

“After today,” Sana trailed off, “what if she never shares anything about herself again? She was ready to leave. Forever.”

Her eyes burned at that thought. There had been so many tears today. Out of all of them, Dahyun had cried the most. She had never thought she’d see someone break down like that, especially not her. But she had. It had been different to when she'd had the fear attack. This had completely overwhelmed her. Everything she’d pushed down since her capture had been forced to the forefront. 

“I think she’d tell us” Momo said slowly. The fairy’s skin glowed in the moonlight. “But like everything else she does, it would take time.”

“And we have a lot of that.” Then Sana's gaze turned thoughtful, her hand lingering again on a scar. “Something I still can’t wrap my head around is how long she’s been here.” A chuckle. “I asked her that same thing, and she thought I meant her age.”

“She arrived,” Momo trailed off. When had Dahyun arrived? She'd thought the answer would be obvious. 

She smiled slightly. “You can’t tell either, right?”

But she had to have known that, right? It was a simple answer. Weeks? Months? 

“Another thing to figure out,” Sana sighed, “later.” 

Seconds of silence passed. Then the other vampire spoke again. 

“Do you think she’ll stay this time? Or run away the moment she thinks we’re in danger.”

Momo didn’t reply immediately. The first answer was no, but after tonight, after seeing how torn Dahyun was, how she couldn’t understand the fact that they didn’t want to go, her answer was probably wrong. And the deciding factor wasn't Dahyun thinking she was in danger, but worrying about them. 

“I want her to stay.” That was the only thing she could say. 

“Me too,” Sana said softly. 

Momo turned to face her. The other vampire’s eyes were still glassy, but the gaze was full of confusion. 

“We’re not going into it today,” she said. “But I think we’ll have to talk about,” how could she put it, “this. Soon.” 

Thankfully, Sana understood what she meant. “We will.” 

They walked on in silence. Dahyun’s breathing was even. It hadn’t been since this afternoon when the vampire attacked. Momo listened to it. As she did so, she was overcome with a feeling of warmth. With it came a degree of fear. How had a person managed to make her feel this way? She felt so at peace just hearing that her breathing was easy. She felt so happy that this girl trusted her enough to fall asleep like this. 

She wondered how Dahyun had managed to make her care. So much. Pull her in so far that the thought of her leaving hurt. Was this attachment? It was exactly the sort of dread she’d felt in the past. When she fell for a human. She'd known they would one day die. And they had. That grief had caused her to push many away, but why did she not want to do the same now?

When they reached the house, the other six girls ushered them in.

“And you really didn’t knock her out and bring her here?” Jeongyeon asked. Her eyes were puffy. Momo could count the times on her hand that the older vampire had cried in front of them. 

“It took some time, but she agreed when she saw how much we wanted her to stay,” Sana replied, a small smile on her face. 

“So you let her look through your emotions?” Mina asked. “All of them?” 

They both nodded. They’d stood there, all three half in tears, silent as Dahyun peeled back the layers of their emotion. From what she’d told them about emotions, that was as close as exposing their souls to her. Or were those core emotions their souls?

The pink-haired vampire didn’t say anything more. There was just a thoughtful edge to her gaze. Again.

“Hungry?” Jihyo asked. “We’ve been craving that pizza.” 

Momo smiled slightly. They’d waited for them. 

“We should take her upstairs,” she nodded at Dahyun, “had a long day.”

“So have you,” Nayeon said. “So if you don’t come back down, I’ll know our pizza is safe.” She winked. 

Momo chuckled, giving her a pout. “One for the road?” 

Sana stuck a slice in her mouth, holding one for her self. It was cold, but still tasted great. 

The sounds of a movie started behind them. They were probably all drained by Dahyun’s story. Momo definitely was. While it was always obvious that something troubled the fairy, she'd never expected it to be so deeply ingrained in her. There was so much pain, so much guilt—it was eating away at her. Could they heal those wounds? Or would they remain like the scars scattered across Dahyun's body?

She set the fairy down on the bed, her slice of pizza already eaten. As she was pulling away, a hand closed around her wrist. Its grip was feeble. Momo could have gotten her to let go without any real effort. She didn’t. 

There was a murmur, but she couldn’t understand it. She’d heard the fae language before, so she recognised the way she drew out the words. She looked at Sana, whose hand had also not been let go of. She didn’t seem to know what Dahyun had said either. 

The next word was in English, but they understood that easily. 

“Stay.”

The vampires exchanged another look. Then both got on the bed, the fairy in the middle. There was a soft hum. Dahyun’s scent got stronger. Its calming effect was immense, though it wasn't close to what she'd shown Momo in the bookstore. All of the tension in her eased. She could have fallen asleep then and there. 

Dahyun was facing Momo, but her fingers had interlaced with Sana's and rested both their hands on her waist. There was a soft tug on Momo's arm. The sleeping fairy was quite demanding. Once the girl had tucked her head underneath Momo’s chin, her breathing slowed even more.

Sana raised an eyebrow on the other side. Momo gave her what she hoped was an amused smile. Sana returned it. 

They stayed like that for a while, neither of them falling asleep. Momo felt that warmth again. Sana’s gaze was fixed on the fairy, that same thoughtfulness filling it completely. 

It wasn’t until she was sure Dahyun was fast asleep that Momo spoke. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“What Mina said,” Sana muttered. “We let her see everything.” 

“We did.” 

“Doesn’t that scare you?” 

She wasn’t sure yet. “Should it?” 

“She knows our feelings better than we do. She’s seen sides of us that we don’t even know exist. That’s how she knows you’re immortal.” At Momo’s confusion, she explained the immortal sadness. “She sees that, and even more.”

“You don’t think we should have let her look?”

A long moment passed. 

“No, we did the right thing.” Another moment. “But what does that mean? You let her in. I let her in. That just—it’s,” she trailed off. 

“It puts her at an advantage?” Momo suggested. “Do you think she’ll use it against us?” Just saying the words felt wrong, but they almost needed to be said. She knew she trusted Dahyun much more than one should. As today had shown, they really didn't know Dahyun as well as they'd thought. Not at all. 

“No,” Sana said immediately. “I just–just don’t—I don’t know how to say it. Everything all sounds terrible in my head, worse when I say it.” A huff. “She poured everything out today. She didn’t have to.” A sigh. “And here I am, complaining about the fact that she can see emotions and I can’t.” 

“You don’t like it because you feel exposed,” Momo said. “Because she’ll never believe you if you say you’re fine, know you’re feeling something even if you don’t know it yourself.” She lowered her voice. “But she could lie about her own feelings any day and we’d never know.” Her chest felt heavy as she said the words. She wasn’t sure if that scared her. It was all true. It had been happening. Dahyun was always seeing their emotions. She wasn’t sure if the girl even meant to. It was a sixth sense to her. 

“At least she’s a terrible liar.”

Momo chuckled. “Yep.” As she said it, she ran through the events of the day. Dahyun had made things seem so normal as she went to school after the vampire attacked. Little had Momo known that she had been preparing to leave. She hadn’t needed to lie, but she could very easily hide her intentions. 

Silence fell. 

“Why do we let it happen?” Sana’s voice sounded small. When she looked over, she saw her resting her head on Dahyun’s back. “We talk about being exposed and that she can hide herself all she wants, but we’re the ones in bed with her.”

Momo fought a smile. “I don’t know why.” She pressed her cheek to the top of Dahyun’s blue hair. “But even if she does see everything, she doesn’t understand a lot of what she finds out.” She paused. “Is that good or bad?” 

“I don’t know.”

_____  
When Dahyun woke up, she was overwhelmed by warmth, both in the physical and the emotional world. She wasn’t alone. She also doubted she’d be able to move any time soon. An arm was wrapped around her waist—no, two arms, but they didn’t belong to the same person. How had this happened? 

Without moving her head too much, she looked to see who had trapped her, even though she had recognised their emotions. She had to see it for herself. Otherwise she would never believe it.   
Sana’s face was surprisingly close to hers. She looked more peaceful than ever before. Momo’s head was buried in Dahyun’s neck, something that might have caused worry, all things considered, but the girl’s breath just tickled slightly. Dahyun was able to see both girls from above, a luxury rarely granted to her due to her height. 

It was comfortable. Very much so, but she couldn’t help but dwell on how close she actually was to these girls. She couldn’t even move her legs without brushing against one of theirs. 

Then she heard someone hum. One arm tightened around her. Sana brushed her nose against Dahyun’s chin. It seemed her electrical magic was acting again. Dahyun felt the current run through her fingers and down her back. 

“Morning,” Sana croaked. “Your heart woke me up.” Purple eyes fluttered open. They were so close that she could see her pupils constrict as light hit them. That was a most interesting about Biology—what it could say about the inner workings of the body. 

“My heart?” she whispered. 

“It’s pounding.” A lazy smile appeared. “Do we make you nervous, Dahyunnie?”

Regretfully, she pushed the emotional world away and brought down the physical. She became aware of her warm face and the heart that Sana had said was beating quickly. It wasn’t that she’d never been nervous before, but this was a very different kind. 

“I think you do,” she replied. Was this what happened when one became aware of one’s feelings? Or had she been too engrossed in everything else to note this feeling earlier? 

Sana gazed up at her, her eyes still purple, still clouded by fatigue and edged with playfulness. Then her eyes flickered to somewhere on her face. Was she looking at her chin?

Dahyun knew it was coming before she felt it. The uncertainty. The strange hesitation that the girl always had. It hadn’t been there yesterday, or just before this moment. If it wasn’t always prevalent, what did that mean?

“Sleep well?” Her voice had risen to its normal tone. Sana sat up, pulling away in the same movement. 

She missed the warmth, but didn’t miss how the motion was too quick to be natural. Should she feel hurt by that? She was. 

“Very,” Dahyun said. “I didn’t dream.” Something she cherished. To not need to relive moments of her past each time she closed her eyes. 

The uncertainty was replaced by a small combination of other emotions. They formed concern, edged with sadness. All directed at her. She didn’t like the combination. It was nearing pity. Of the many emotions that should have been directed at her, this wasn’t one of them. She wondered if they had actually processed what she’d told them yesterday, or if the sheer intensity of the day before had clouded their judgement. She had been vulnerable. She had cried. Those were all of the things that could lead to pity. 

Light blue was everywhere. Most of it was hers, but that of Momo and Sana had woven its way though. Her doubts surrounding pity faded. For the moment at least. They were fully at ease around her. She wanted that feeling to last. Even if it might be short-lived. 

“How did you sleep?” Dahyun asked. 

“Really well.” The vampire's bottom lip became tucked under her teeth. The cocktail of nerves, fear, and other combinations Dahyun couldn’t figure out surged. Then Sana stood up and was at the door in an instant. “I, uh,” she tilted from one foot to the next, “they’re making breakfast.” Then she was gone. 

Dahyun rarely ever felt uncomfortable in the presence of these vampires. Now she did. She believed the word used to describe the feeling accurately was awkward. 

_____  
Momo woke to a gentle voice. 

“Time to get up,” they said. “You’ll miss breakfast.”

Her eyes opened. She was greeted by bright blue eyes. The colours swirled within the irises. She was transfixed by the sight. 

“Something on my face?” Dahyun asked, tilting her head to the side. 

“Your eyes,” Momo said. “The colours are moving.” Would they be hidden the moment she spoke now? She really didn’t want it to. 

She smiled. “Emotions aren’t stationary. Ever.” The blue didn’t disappear, but green was starting to appear. 

Momo realised her head was right by the girl’s neck. She didn’t feel hungry, even though she could hear the girl’s pulse, which was quick. Her scent was stronger than ever. 

She lifted her head anyway. Her arm had been around the girl’s waist. She hadn’t noticed how soft the material of her grey clothes was. It was a mixture of velvet and silk. Stretchy too. 

“Morning.” Momo still couldn’t look away from her eyes. Pink had joined in.

“Good morning,” Dahyun said. “How did you sleep?” She put an emphasis on the you. That was when Momo saw that Sana wasn’t there. When had she left?

“Great,” she admitted. “Was that you?” 

“Normally I would answer yes, but I slept really well too.” Dahyun puffed out her cheeks, her mind begin to work. “I don’t know why.”

She couldn’t resist poking her cheeks. “You don't have to think too much in the morning.” 

“But it’s good to think.” She gave her a look. “At night no notes can be taken.” The fairy got up and stretched her arms behind her. Momo heard several bones crack. 

“Did you never study at night?” That was where all students, high-school and beyond, thrived. 

“Sometimes,” she said. “But usually night was comprised of research exchanges or hunting.” She got her bag and pulled out the crumpled uniform. Did she ever iron her things? Had she learned about that yet?

“Hunting?”

Dahyun nodded. “That’s how we got our food. Usually,” she shrugged, “with time, we did realise the ease at which food could be obtained in the human world. Though finding fruit in a supermarket pales in comparison to stumbling across a bush or tree yourself.” A small smile as she looked at her. “Can’t imagine me hunting, can you?” 

“Not really.” 

“We should try it sometime,” her smile grew, “put those senses to the test.” Then she disappeared into the bathroom to change. 

Momo smiled. She couldn’t help but think that this was how things were supposed to be. She felt completely at ease. And not just because of the calm Dahyun had given her. 

______  
Breakfast was weird. The moment Sana came down, the girls shared very similar looks. They definitely knew about how the three of them had slept, but none said anything else other than good morning. 

“Did you remember we had a Math test today?” Chaeyoung asked. 

She didn’t. “We’ve had a lot of other things on our minds.”

Several mumbled their agreement. For once, it hadn’t just been her and Momo who couldn’t get a particular fairy out of their heads. 

Sana sat down next to Nayeon, took a blood bag from the table and drank. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was. Had Dahyun done that too? She was still feeling calm. When she’d woken up, she had never felt so at peace—so at home. It was the best sleep she’d gotten in a while. Everything felt natural: the cuddling, the flirting, all of it. Had she not been so overwhelmed, she might have even kissed her. 

She wanted to blame her feelings on Dahyun’s powers. She couldn’t. This was all on her. That was part of the reason why she’d pulled away. Again. Momo had said it yesterday: Dahyun didn’t know—really know—what she was feeling, nor what Sana and Momo were. If Sana closed off now, she was still safe. 

Or so she thought. 

“Morning!” Jeongyeon called. 

“Good morning.” Dahyun smiled. Her hair tumbled down in waves. They were still blue, one shade of it blending into the next. Her uniform hung loose. The buttons at the top were all undone. Had she always worn her uniform like that? 

As she walked over, Sana couldn’t miss the look she threw her way. It was questioning, but still made bright by the smile she wore. 

“You like pancakes?” Nayeon pointed at the three stacks in the middle of the table. 

“I,” Dahyun came closer, “think I would?” Her stare was focused. On pancakes. “It’s cake?”

“Nope. The humans just call it that,” Tzuyu said. 

“Really?” The fae glanced at the oven. “So it's not in that?”

“It is,” the youngest grinned, “and they’re actually cake, and this is the pan they're made in.” She sped over to the kitchen, lifting one to show the girl. 

Dahyun chuckled. “I know so little.”

“Just ask whenever you’re not sure. We’ll tell you what it is, eventually.” She winked at Dahyun. 

The fairy fiddled with her tie. It hung loose around her neck. The smile still hadn’t left her face. Sana knew she was staring, but this was something she didn't want to look away from.

“Coffee?” Dahyun asked. 

Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Mina said they did. 

As Dahyun started the coffee machine, she got an intense look of concentration. Sana could have smiled right then and there. She didn’t. She almost felt like she’d given up her smiling rights this morning. 

“For me too?” someone called down from the stairs. 

The fairy looked up, a soft smile breaking out across her face. Sana felt a pang of disappointment. Had she not been so caught up in her fear, she might have also gotten that look. She had gotten something close to it this morning. Then she’d ruined it. Now all she got was the weird half-smile that had been sent her as a good-morning. 

“Will do,” Dahyun said. “Milk, sugar?” She looked around. The girls told her their orders, while Momo went to stand next to her. 

“So you don’t know what popcorn is, or pizza and lasagna, but you know coffee?” She raised an eyebrow.

Dahyun shrugged. “Your food is confusing to me, it can be anything, made out of just about anything too. Coffee is coffee. Simple and effective.” The first cup was made. As the second was being dispensed, she brought it to the table. “No milk or sugar.” She slid it over to Mina. 

“Is there no age hierarchy with you fairies?” Nayeon exclaimed. 

Dahyun laughed. It was a rich sound. Sana found herself wanting to hear more.

“But if I’m the oldest, don’t I get to choose the order, _unnie_?” Her eyes shone. 

“I get it,” Nayeon muttered, “you like Mina more.” There was a smile on her face. 

“It’s not favouritism,” Dahyun protested. Sana could see her mind working behind her eyes, probably as she thought about what to do next. She really couldn’t hide that side of her. 

“She’s just messing with you,” Momo nudged her, “just say she’s your favourite and all's forgiven.” 

Dahyun said just that and brought her the second coffee. Nayeon just stood up then and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl. 

“Is this a thank you?” she asked. “For coffee?”

“I just wanted to give you a hug, silly. You’ll have to get used to that.” The semi-eldest pulled away. 

Dahyun nodded. “I’ll try.”

Sana couldn’t help but remember that she’d said that before. Then tried to leave. 

“Never had much physical contact before?” Chaeyoung asked. Sana swore her eyes went to Sana, and then to Momo. The scent of mountains and forests clung to her in a way Sana didn't mind, but it was also a dead give away. 

“No,” Dahyun said. “Only among closest family members.” A sombre edge to her gaze appeared. Only for a second. Then her expression became a smile. It looked genuine, but Sana knew it wasn’t. And that was only because she’d seen the expression before it. That she could hide that part of her easily made Sana frown. “Jeongyeon, did you want milk or sugar?”

“So Nabongs gets called unnie, but not me?” The girl grinned. 

“What kind of coffee,” Dahyun said, “Jeongyeon-unnie?” She stuck out her tongue. 

Breakfast continued as normal. The fairy fit right in with them, with the jokes, the stories, only needing to ask now and then about certain phrases. It was almost perfect. 

_______  
When she got into school, Dahyun felt excitement. It was directed towards her. She wasn’t able to fully register such a phenomenon as the person was walking towards them, a bounce in her step. 

“Dahyun-ah,” Irene grinned, “we got full marks”

“For wha–oh!” Had that really only been last week’s literature project? “Really?”

“Yes, you genius. Your analysis of revenge was perfect. You didn’t even show me how much work you put in there.” The girl nudged her arm. 

Dahyun hadn’t been sure how working with people in class would be like, but Irene had been the perfect start. Seemingly cold at first, but that hid a very warm soul. Next to the vampires, she had come to enjoy any time she had with the girl and her friends. Even if that itself had garnered even more attention. Why, she did not know. 

“I had a lot of notes,” Dahyun smiled, “too many to show at the time.” 

“Well I think we deserve a reward,” Irene winked, “celebratory lunch? My treat.” 

Her treat. That meant she wanted to pay?

“You don’t—“ she started. There had been too many occurrences of people ‘treating’ her when they really didn’t need to. 

“Unless you mind.” Irene looked between her and the other vampires. Dahyun felt her surprise. Had she not realised they were there? After the surprise, she felt the beginnings of disappointment stirring. 

Dahyun followed her gaze. Most of the other girls were curious, but had other emotions she couldn’t understand. Momo’s expression was an easy smile, but it did not match the mixed emotions within her, among them was something close to sadness. Sana, on the other hand, was frowning at something down the hall, though her irritation wasn’t directed in that direction. It was at Irene and Dahyun. 

She looked back to Irene to see her expressionless side returning. The disappointment had flared, souring the excitement. 

Dahyun would have to ask the girls about their strange emotions later. “We can celebrate.” 

The smile that broke out on her face was lovely to see. It mirrored her bright emotions perfectly. 

“Great,” Irene squeezed her arm, “see you then.” Then she left. Dahyun became very aware of all the attention directed at them. At her. Not just from the girls, but also from the students. There was some sort of envy, surprise, and confusion. It all made her even more confused. 

“Come on,” Mina pulled away from the vampires, “we’ll be late for the test.” She grabbed her arm. 

Dahyun let herself be led away. Everything was a muddle now. The emotions within the hall, those of the vampires, and now it was time for math, a course she liked, but didn’t understand either. 

“Did I do something wrong?” She looked back to see Sana going upstairs, while Momo lingered at her locker with Nayeon. She couldn’t see either of their faces. Within the whirlwinds that were their emotions, she saw the combinations that lead to disappointment. She had definitely done something wrong. There was also another combination of emotions. There was sadness and she recognised the type of envy as well. Yet she couldn't quite decipher it. 

“Don’t think so.” Mina gave her a small smile. “But I think you just got famous.” 

______  
“Stop looking like that,” Jeongyeon muttered. 

“Like what?” Sana lifted her head. She could hear laughter and a soft chuckle. Looking where it came from, she saw Jennie out of the corner of her eye. Sana wasn’t sitting with her today. 

“Like you wanna rip her head off,” Nayeon said. “Both of you look like you’re jealous of your shared ex. People are definitely gonna notice.” 

“Dahyun’s not an ex,” Momo replied. 

She laughed. “I meant Irene.”

“Right.” She blushed. 

“Don’t you think there’s something off?” Sana asked. She had a weird feeling, as though something was really off in the air. She wondered if it had something to do with Irene. 

Jihyo frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She was with both of us, and there was talk that we're interested Dahyun.” And they weren't wrong.

“Pretty nice coincidence.” 

“It was English literature,” Tzuyu said. “Irene probably made it on Dahyun’s great list just by deciphering Shakespeare with her.”

Great list. Sana didn’t like the sound of that. When she looked over, she liked what she saw even less. 

Irene had leaned over to say something in her ear. Dahyun, naturally, listened intently. 

“I know our project is finished and all, but if you want to talk Shakespeare or anything else, we can always meet up after school,” the human said. 

The fairy nodded, seemingly unaware of how it looked from the outside. “I’d like that.” A smile appeared.

“Great.” 

“Sana,” Mina tapped her shoulder, “look away. Stop listening.” 

She felt like an idiot. Everything that was happening was okay, great even. Dahyun was actually getting to know people outside of the eight vampires. Actually making time for a world outside the supernatural. Yet the fact that she was doing it like this, Sana just couldn’t stomach it. She was jealous. Plain and simple. 

Jennie caught her eye again. Sana sent her a smile. She felt even worse. It was time to end that relationship. The girl had definitely realised that Sana’s attention was elsewhere. It wasn’t her fault at all, and Sana wished she could tell her that. But if she was supposed to be honest there, she would have to explain that she had been so caught up in learning about the new girl, had fallen way too far for her in the process, and had only dated someone else because she didn’t know what else to do. No, she couldn’t be honest. 

_Just don’t lie to me._

That was what she’d said to Dahyun—how long ago? A few days? A week? Longer? She really didn’t know. Had she lost track of time because everything was happening so fast? Or had she lost the sense of time because of something else? She had no idea. Did it matter? She didn’t know that either. 


	12. Love

Dinner was quiet. They were all tired. Dahyun was actually hungry. And Momo’s thoughts were all over the place. 

“So what was the project about?” Tzuyu asked. 

The fairy lifted her head, still chewing on her food. Then she swallowed. “Which one?”

Momo swore she saw Tzuyu glance her way. She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful for the youngest’s words or absolutely mortified. 

“Literature.”

“Ah! It was Shakespeare. Still,” Dahyun frowned, “we needed three factors to write about. Irene chose love, about which I hadn’t much idea. So I chose revenge and we looked at the soliloquies together. Something that also helped me get a better grip on the English language.” A smile. “It can be rather beautiful.”

“Was she easy to work with?” Nayeon asked. 

Dahyun nodded. “Perfect actually. She didn’t know how to pick up on the subtleties of spite. I didn’t pick up on, well,” she laughed, “anything when it came to the relationship between Ophelia and Hamlet.” 

Momo knew she was supposed to be happy that Dahyun was figuring things out organically, that she was getting to know other people. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but note the fact that Dahyun understood revenge and not love. Yet at the forefront of her mind was the word 'perfect'. To describe Irene. She almost felt ashamed that this was the thing she was focusing on. 

"Did perfect Irene help you figure it out?" Sana asked, a bite in her voice.

Dahyun looked taken aback. Her smile disappeared. "Not really, you can’t exactly ask what a healthy relationship is to look like out of nowhere.” 

“You could just ask us,” Chaeyoung said. “Maybe not Jeongyeon and Nayeon, because I don’t understand that relationship after centuries of living with it. But the rest of us have an idea.” 

Momo didn’t think she did. Not at all. 

“I’m sure you do, Chaeng,” Nayeon said. Then she threw a pointed look at Mina. “You’re not the best when it comes to acting on your feelings. Neither of you are.” 

The two girls blushed. Chaeyoung whacked the eldest vampire on the arm. 

Dahyun’s smile widened. Then her brow furrowed. 

“I know it’s mutual, causes or creates happiness in the other, involves communication,” she said slowly. “But these are all things not shown to you in a book or film. They're nothing like real life.”

Mina nudged her. “Also, most of us can’t see things the way you do.” 

“Right,” her eyes went to her lap, “I’ll show you how that looks one day. All of you if you’d like. Unless your experience with love is painful.” Her face fell. “Then I won’t even reach for it if you don’t want to.” 

Momo felt a pang of distant pain. One of loss and longing. She wondered if Dahyun had seen that yesterday. 

“Any questions?” Jeongyeon asked. “Contrary to what the cub says, we’re great at relationships.” She winked at Nayeon. Everyone but Dahyun rolled their eyes or gagged. 

“Why would a person not acknowledge the love they feel for another?” Dahyun asked. “That’s not quite the case in Hamlet, but I’ve seen it elsewhere.” The physics look appeared. “And then conflict arises from a refusal to communicate? I don’t understand why it’s difficult. If you love, you love, do you not? It’s not an emotion to reject.” 

The table went quiet. Why had they opened this conversation? Momo’s heart had sped up just from a simple question. Well, it wasn’t that simple. She glanced at Sana who was staring at the table. The other girl looked like she wanted to leave the room. Momo almost expected her to. 

“Should I,” Dahyun chewed on her lip, “make the question clearer? I’ve written it down. Maybe that’ll,” she started to stand. 

To everyone’s surprise, including her own, Momo spoke up. It was like jumping from a cliff and into the water. Once the first step was taken, you couldn't take it back. “People don’t face their feelings because they’re scared.”

Her eyes widened. “Fear and love?” she murmured. Then another flow of words followed, hardly above a whisper. Her language. “Why be afraid?” She sat back down, her eyes fixed on Momo. 

“It’s because,” she trailed off. Then she remembered what she’d told Sana. “Once you tell someone how you feel, you’re vulnerable to the person you love. You’re exposed.”

“To what? Fear?” The look in her eyes was one of burning curiosity. Momo felt nervous being at the centre of Dahyun’s attention. Yet she didn’t want to look away. 

“Getting hurt,” Sana said. They all looked at her. “Being dependent is never healthy, but falling in love will always make you rely on the other.”

"But they make you happy,” Dahyun said. She was looking at the space around them. "That's a good thing. A wonderful thing actually. It isn't something to avoid." Her eyes had completely glazed over. What was she looking at?

"Not always," Sana shook her head, "because if they can do that, they can take it away again.”

The fairy broke out of whatever trance she’d been in. Her lips were moving, but no sound came out. Her eyes flicked between Sana and Momo for a second. 

“Is that,” she cut herself off. “Thank you all for talking to me about this. If my questions are too much, never hesitate to tell me.” A broad smile broke out on her face. Momo could hear the fairy’s heart pounding. “I think I might have an idea,” she stood, “I’ll be back, but I have to—how to say it—dive into the emotions. It’s better if I’m alone.” And with that, she left.  
______  
Dahyun’s mind was buzzing. She hadn’t felt this invigorated, or this confused, in quite some time. 

Love and fear. It should have been a contradiction. It was a contradiction. But she knew they could exist parallel to one another. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d seen it happen in Chaeyoung and Mina, the remnants of it at least. She had also seen it in Sana and Momo, Sana especially. 

She wanted to tell each of them what an emotion like love could do for fear, hatred, and sadness—what it could do against it. At least what she suspected it could do. She almost had. Yet those were things where, even if they only had Dahyun's suspicions, their minds would be endangered. A mental fae could follow memories easily, but they needed the right thread to follow. If none of the girls knew the power of emotions like happiness or love, there was a far greater chance that they would be ignored by the rest. The less risky option would always be prioritised. Dahyun needed to make sure she chose that option. Now she just had to figure out a way of how to do that. 

Her feet brought her to an unfamiliar part of the forest. She had been here before, but not consciously. As she examined the calm around her, she also watched the animals around her. She thought of hunting. She hadn’t needed to hunt for the longest time. Eating the prepared foods of the humans was far easier, even if the first time eating it had caused most of her clan to fall ill for several days. 

She sat down on the forest floor, breathing out a sigh. As comfortable as the house was, she felt more at ease outside. It gave her room to think. Properly. And she had so much to consider. 

_People don’t face their feelings, because they’re scared._ That was what Momo had said. Dahyun still couldn’t wrap her head around that. If she did anything, it was facing her feelings. She knew she was starting to feel happy again. It was a happiness she’d only ever felt with her family, at least if that’s what the traces of it meant. She knew that the fear from Helen’s talisman still coursed through her. The other emotions had only buried it, but the fear was as potent as it had been before. She also knew that her grief far outweighed the sadness. Her pain hadn’t been given to her. It was solely hers. 

But there was more. If she looked deeper, grasping at emotions that were still in the process of being made, she found something settling into her deepest emotions. It joined her sadness and the tranquility. It was a slow-moving wave, still faint, but no less potent. It was love. 

Just seeing it filled her with so much warmth. How could an emotion such as this be feared? It might have been connected to other emotions, like desire and jealousy, which she still didn’t understand, but the love could not be misunderstood. 

Then she felt a shiver run down her spine. She sensed magic. She recognised it, but not completely. Then, as though from a different direction, she felt eyes on her. She whirled around, a dagger of grief already forming in her hands. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away. 

Then she made the dagger disappear. The eyes on her belonged to Sana and Momo. She wanted to know what this foreign magic was, but she was stopped by the emotions they were feeling. Dread surrounded them. It was reflected in their eyes. 

“Are you trying to leave again?” Sana asked. Her voice sounded gentle, almost fragile. 

Dahyun was amazed at how quickly she responded. “No.” 

The relief in both was great, yet it did no show on their faces. For some reason, Dahyun frowned at that. Why were they unwilling to show such emotions? Was it a habit born out of years of hiding them? She could only guess. 

“I thought you were staying yesterday,” Momo said. “And then it took eight people to get you to actually stay.” A wisp of blue sadness shone through the relief. 

“You don’t believe me now?” She wasn’t hurt, but saddened. This would be another thing to be conscious of. She didn’t want to hurt them. Or at least avoid it as much as she could. 

Momo shrugged. “We talk about love and fear, you run out, and all we hear are rustling leaves.”

“I had an idea,” Dahyun said. That didn’t seem to satisfy them. Then she realised it. “I’m sorry. I think I’m acting at different standards—contexts, er, culture,” she said. “At home—among my family, an idea meant you wouldn’t see the person for hours. Sometimes days.” 

Once she had spent two weeks away just exploring the way tranquility changed from place to place, from night to day. It had been one of the most relaxing experiences of her life. 

“That won’t happen,” she added quickly. “Though I do think better out here.” Looking down at her hands, she said, “I should’ve known to tell you so immediately.” 

It had slipped from her mind. It wasn’t the worst thing to have gotten wrong. She had acted here as she would have with her clan. That was a testament to something, wasn’t it? 

“Don’t apologise,” Sana said. She came forward and took her hand. None of that uncertainty was present now, nor the weird irritation from dinner. “This just shows we have to get to know your world a little better too.” 

“Like a trade,” Momo added. “We’ll show you all the movies, TV shows, food, and more.” 

Dahyun felt herself smile. “And I’ll tell you the oddities of my people?”

“Oddities?” Sana repeated, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You think movies are weird for us? They’re the staple of the modern world.” 

She laughed. “Then I clearly have to watch more, don’t I?”

“Way ahead of you,” Momo came and linked their arms. Dahyun was once again surrounded by these two. “Finished with your research?” 

There was a lightness within the both of them. It caused their happiness to brighten. Once again, it was because of Dahyun. It must have been the relief that she wasn’t leaving. Right? She wanted to ask, but resisted. She wanted to look further, but didn’t. Not only had she already been looking too far into their emotions, but she’d asked more than enough questions today. 

“Not yet,” she admitted as they walked. “But that can wait.”

Sana squeezed her hand. “So you’re not a workaholic.” 

Dahyun grinned. “I’m still working. Movies count as work.” There was so much to learn, so much to analyse—they were as exhilarating as they were confusing. 

“Why do you sound so happy about that?” Momo was smiling as she said it. 

“If one spends life learning, new avenues for it are even more exciting.” 

“You know, people usually shut off when they watch movies," said Sana.

“Then I will understand nothing.”

“Try it! It’s not the worst feeling ever. You think I understood a car at first?” Sana giggled. “Long story short, I crashed it. It went slower than we’re walking right now.” 

Beside her, Momo let out a long laugh. 

Dahyun felt a distinct sense of belonging. Light-hearted conversations not centred around magic. It was very new to her, but a wonderful change. 

They watched Iron Man that night. The girls had insisted she know these people. The Avengers? 

She quickly realised that Iron Man wasn’t exactly made of iron. She also knew the twist of the movie, which gave her an enormous amount of satisfaction. Yet there had been another twist at the end. 

The movie ended with an intense song. The girls shut it off, turning to her expectantly. 

“I really liked, but,” she frowned, “what are the main characters supposed to be to one another? Their last scene together was strange.” 

Surprise rose. “They’re a couple in the next movies,” Chaeyoung smiled, “I love that development.” 

“Couple?” she repeated, “but they never talked about it.” 

“They almost kissed at the party!” Jihyo exclaimed. “That’s about as clear as any confession.” 

She felt her cheeks redden. 

“We don’t kiss.” It hadn’t taken long to realise that gesture was a sign of affection, or attraction, but she still found it strange. It was probably like a hug or holding hands: something her people never did, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. However, even Dahyun had noticed a kiss was much more intimate than a hug. She still didn't quite recognise the signs. 

“Ever?” Sana’s eyes were wide. 

She shook her head. “Is it something common?” She’d seen it in school, but rarely. 

Sana didn’t respond immediately. There was a playfulness to her gaze. 

“It depends on the person.” Then she winked. 

Someone groaned. “Don’t be a bad influence,” Chaeyoung gave her a look. “She still has to decide for herself how she’ll view kisses.” 

Dahyun didn’t quite know what that was implying. 

“Aren’t they for when you like a person? Romantically.” It must have been, because there would have been a great deal more kisses in this house if that was the case. Hugs were frequent enough and Sana had been holding her hand on the way here. She still was. Momo's head was on her shoulder. 

“Yep,” Jeongyeon said. “Very close contact and all that.” As if to demonstrate, she pressed her hands together. 

“And that isn’t,” Dahyun trailed off. She touched her own lips, trying and failing to imagine what they would be like. “It isn’t unsettling for people?”

“Not if you trust them,” Mina said. “And like them enough of course.” 

She could only nod. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about how it would feel. Yet something held her back from asking. Would one of them show her? And would she let them?

Her mind went to two people who would fit the criteria. Two people she trusted and, if her emotions were to be believed, liked in the way that had been described. But could you kiss two people?Films had shown that you could, but they weren’t real. Even so, she imagined one could kiss two, but could you, as Sana had put it once, 'be with' two people? 

She’d only ever seen humans involved with one person at a time. Elves fell in love several times at once. Dahyun had witnessed how one elf’s love had been equally strong for three others at one time. It had been an astounding sight. 

Then Dahyun yawned. She closed her mouth, trying to stifle it. All she succeeded at was making a few laugh. 

“Time for bed I guess.” Nayeon grinned. Then curiosity spiked in her. The girl looked to either side of Dahyun. 

“Yes.” She stood, feeling slightly cold without Sana and Momo at her sides. It reminded her of—had that been this morning? Yesterday evening already felt distant to her. The uplifting events of today seemed to have stretched time. “Goodnight.” She smiled at each of them. “Thank you,” she said. “For—for all of this.” 

She meant their understanding, their willingness to help her whenever she was confused, the sheer amount of care they seemed to feel for her. They’d given her love. They’d given her happiness. She didn’t know how she could repay that, but she knew she’d do everything in her power to do so. 

Dahyun didn’t know who she could talk to about this. She felt guilty, but she didn’t think she could talk to Momo and Sana about it. Not yet at least. Her head still spun with thoughts of yesterday’s conversations. What was the love that she was feeling? She was certain that the love she felt for six of them was very similar to what she'd felt for her family and friends. Yet she truly was not sure about the last two. And if she was right, then how was that meant to work with two people? Should it work? She wondered if that even mattered. She did not plan to stay forever. She couldn’t stay long. They would catch up to her. She would either flee or be captured. Fleeing would be the better of the two options. 

“Something on your mind?” Joy asked. They were in the library, working on math together. The other, and much taller, girl understood differentiation far better than her. Especially the word problems, which could have sent Dahyun running. "People, school, or something else?"

"People," she admitted. 

“Guys? Girls? Or both?” A wink. “I know, I’m being immature.” 

Dahyun tried not to be too obvious that she wasn’t sure what they were talking about. “Girls?” It was true. 

She grinned, setting down her pencil. “Care to explain?” 

“I’d like to, but can’t.”

Her eyes softened. “Confused?”

She nodded. How could she phrase this without it sounding really strange to human ears? “How do you know if you like someone?” Too obvious, but it was too late to take it back. 

Joy just chuckled. “Sure it’s not two someones?”

Dahyun couldn’t hide her surprise. It heated her entire face. 

“You’re cute.” Her eyes turned into crescents as she laughed. “I don’t wanna say it like this, but you have eyes for two of the hottest girls in this school.”

Dahyun mulled over those words for a moment. Were her strange feelings so obvious? “As in heart eyes?” 

“Oh they’re full of hearts alright,” Joy winked, “but it’s not one-sided. Even if one of them is busy playing someone else.” Her smile faded. 

“What do you mean?”

Dahyun saw sadness mixed with flickers of purple and pink. 

“She doesn’t make it a secret,” Joy muttered. “But Sana never stays long in one place.”

In one place. Sana hadn't exactly moved anywhere, unless one counted walking from school to the house and everywhere in between. Dahyun was pretty sure that wasn't it. Another odd figure of speech.

“Sana?” Those odd emotions were tied to the girl. There was also disappointment. What could have caused that? It was more severe than the disappointment the girls felt when she wasn’t sitting at their table. 

Joy gave her a look. “You’ve heard the stories, right? I think she’s been with three people since you arrived.” More disappointment. “Including Irene and me." She frowned. “Momo was also with Irene.”

With her as in dating? From her emotions, she didn’t have to ask this time. She was at least picking up on that aspect of romance. 

“I don’t blame you for liking them. Go right ahead if you want,” she said. “Just be careful.”

“Careful?” Dahyun repeated. Was this that element of fear in love? The way Joy was describing it was that both Momo and Sana wouldn’t be around for long, but not in the way that Dahyun wasn’t supposed to be around long. It was an emotional presence, she supposed. Joy was missing Sana’s presence?

“Everyone hopes they’ll be good enough for her.” She shrugged. “Nobody is. Joo-Hwan got his hopes shattered, Irene got a double disappointment.” Then she smiled slightly. “I wasn’t with her long before she lost interest. Jennie’s probably in for heartbreak too.” 

Heartbreak. Normally if your heart broke, that meant you died. So was the sadness related to a lost opportunity at love? Was that what Dahyun had avoided by not leaving? Perhaps a different type of it. The other was purely on the level of romantic attraction, because the flickers of love she saw in Joy weren’t strong. Yet she had seen a great deal of sadness in Momo, but also some in Sana, though it did pale in comparison. 

Did that mean Momo already knew how deep the heartbreak could go and Sana did not? Was it the fear of that pain that made Sana so uncertain around Dahyun? Very likely, if she knew she’d lose interest soon. Was it a bad habit that arose from immortality? Whatever the case, Dahyun didn’t think this was the right way to go about things. People were getting hurt because of it. Did Sana know that? 

“On to less depressing things,” Joy said. “To answer your question, you know you like someone usually when you can’t get them out of your head. Or if you manage that, when they come in the room, your attention goes straight there.” 

She’d experienced the latter. Twice. “Do you feel really happy?” 

She smiled. “You should. Liking someone shouldn’t always mean you’re a bundle of nerves around them.” 

Lucky for Dahyun, she rarely knew if she was nervous in that sense. At least until she noticed her heart was racing or her face was warm, then she really did feel nervous. 

“Thank you, Joy.” 

“Sooyoung,” she said. “I don’t know that many Joy’s, so most people call me that. But Sooyoung is my real name.” 

“Both fit,” Dahyun replied. She meant it. She saw the bright green very frequently in the human. She didn’t look further for the sake of privacy, but she was quite sure Joy’s core emotions would include happiness as well. 

A small silence. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” It was only fair. 

“What do you plan to do?” Joy asked. “This whole love triangle thing you’re in is complicated. I don't envy that, but these are two girls everyone wants to date.” She waggled her eyebrows. 

She didn’t ask what a love triangle was. It sounded pretty self-explanatory. Instead, she thought about the question. What was she supposed to do? She hadn’t planned on doing anything. Was she supposed to? What would happen if—when—she had to leave? If she pursued anything, wouldn’t there be more pain? 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never, uh, dated anyone before.” That was true, and she felt it was alright to say. 

“What?” Her eyes widened. Shock covered the other emotions. “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. Was this so unbelievable? She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

“I guess that explains why you’re so clueless.” Joy grinned. “Three people are into you and you don’t pick up on anything.” 

“Who?” 

Joy raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, two Japanese girls, and,” her eyes widened, “nevermind.” 

Momo and Sana. And the third. Who might that be? She combed her head for the people she’d talked to before. Then she remembered the jealousy from other students, from the other girls. 

“Irene?” 

The shock strengthened. 

“I didn’t say anything to you about this!” she said. “She’ll kill me.” 

Dahyun wanted to ask why something like that should be a secret, but she resisted. She’d asked too many questions already. 

Irene was beautiful in both the physical and the emotional world. Her core emotions were comprised of calm and humours. Both had shone through during the Hamlet project, as her patience with Dahyun had been marvellous, even when she’d been very unfocused. After the Helen attack, she'd hardly been affected when Dahyun’s emotional aura had been lashing out. 

“Anyway,” Joy started to stack her papers, “I think you should just let things play out. If you really don’t know what to do, go with what feels right.” She gave her a grin. “Be natural.”

______  
“What are you frowning at?” Jeongyeon asked. 

“How long has Dahyun been here?” Momo was staring at her calendar. “I don’t know why, but I can’t remember when she arrived.”

“Well, it was probably the Mon—” Nayeon stopped, then frowned. “Tuesday?”

“Wednesday,” Jihyo said. “Closer to the weekend.”

“Then it must have been a Thursday,” Sana replied. 

“We could just ask her when she comes,” Mina said. 

“She won’t be coming,” Chaeyoung said. “She didn’t get the unit and Joy offered to help.”

“Help?” Sana repeated. Her brow furrowed. 

“What?” Jeongyeon winked. “Worried all your exes are gonna make their move?” 

The once pink-haired girl scowled. She’d gone to a pale brown colour. Then she shook her head. “I guess that’s it,” she shrugged, “but I’ve got a weird feeling.” 

“About them?” Jihyo looked from Sana to where Irene was sitting. 

“Not exactly.” A sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.” 

“We’ll keep an eye on them,” Nayeon said. Sana might have gotten jealous easily, but she was rarely paranoid. 

Momo looked back at the calendar. She also felt weird. It wasn’t anything huge. She just felt uncomfortable. And a little hungry. Maybe that was it. 

Dahyun smiled at her when she walked into Physics. It was a broad one. Momo couldn’t help but return it. Her chest almost felt light, the weirdness of the day fading. 

“Hey.” Momo went over to the place in front of the desk Dahyun shared with Chaeyoung.

“Hi.” The fairy fixed a surprisingly intense gaze at her. “I finished the book.” She rested her chin on her hands. “The one with hobbits. We have a lot to talk about,” she smiled, “if you like.” 

“Definitely.” She poked her cheek.

“Great,” her smile widened, “I’ll see you all at the house then later.” 

“Going somewhere?” Chaeyoung asked.

“Meeting someone actually,” she replied. “Irene’s friends might join, but I’m not sure.” 

There it was again. A stab of jealousy that Momo tried desperately to push down. She had no right to be this jealous. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t justified either. 

_Then again,_ she thought, _you did cuddle with her_. In a bed. Yet as the thought crossed her mind, she reminded herself that Dahyun wasn’t aware of how intimate that was. She didn’t even know anything about kissing. At least not much. 

A tiny kick jolted her out of her thoughts. Momo saw that Dahyun was looking at her, brow furrowed and lips pursed. The physics look. Before class had even started. Momo saw the questions forming in the fairy's mind. Then class actually started. Momo left to go to her seat. 

“I hate to say it,” Jeongyeon whispered. It was one that couldn’t be heard by anyone except probably a werewolf, but not Dahyun. “But you couldn’t have been more obvious. “

Momo sighed. “I know.” With her disappointment came a weird feeling again. She felt tired, hungry, and almost sick. Maybe she’d have to buy the book tomorrow. Then again, maybe she just needed to walk around. Plus, she wanted to see Dahyun smile. She’d buy the book today. 

______  
It was dark when they left the café. 

“One thing I never like about this season is how dark it gets.” Irene pouted. 

Dahyun smiled. “Not how cold?”

“I like the cold,” she said. “Just not the dark.” There was a small flicker of unease. 

“What direction?” 

She smiled slightly. “You gonna walk me home?”

“Yes.” 

A laugh. “You’re sweet,” Irene linked their arms, “this way.” 

Dahyun tugged at the physical world. Her heart was beating quicker and her face felt warm. She was nervous. Did she ‘like’ Irene in that sense? Did Irene like her? She couldn’t tell yet. Should she have been able to? The girl didn’t take up every thought of hers, but their visit to the café had been lovely. Not once did she have to talk about magic or emotions. It was completely different to how things had been among her clan. But it also wasn’t like with the vampires where she could always ask about the things that confused her. This wasn’t because of Irene, as she had no knowledge of Dahyun’s actual background. She couldn’t help but compare the scenarios. They were all so different, yet all made her happy.

They talked about the future. Dahyun listened intently as Irene talked about wanting to study music. The humans had a weird system: go to school, enter another education system, and then get a job. Not only was it a foreign concept to her, but she had no idea if she was going to go through that as well. She’d have to ask the girls. 

“What about you? Any plans?” The street they were on was completely silent. Dahyun couldn’t even hear the cars. 

_None,_ she thought. “Something scientific, I think.” 

“Right,” she grinned, “science whiz.” Orange amusement appeared. 

Dahyun was about to ask what that meant when she felt it. Magic. One she recognised from the forest yesterday. Not that of a fae, but it was tinged with fear. It surrounded them. 

They weren’t alone. She recognised the person immediately, but something was very wrong. Momo. She was shrouded by crimson. It was anger and desire put together. Predatory emotions. They weren’t hers, but they were directed at both of them. 

“Dahyun?” Irene asked, moving closer to her side. 

Then Momo moved. Dahyun saw the blur of her figure in the street. Somehow, she knew the vampire wasn’t targeting her. At least not right now. 

She stepped in front of Irene, letting go of her arm. Then she pushed forward, hoping to intercept the vampire’s path. She succeeded. And was knocked away by the force of a mountain. At least it felt like that. Ribs cracked and she slid across the hard ground. There were the sounds of cloth ripping. She fought a scream. 

“Dahyun!” Irene yelled. She heard footsteps. Coming towards her. 

“Sleep,” Momo crooned. The air rustled with her magic, but Dahyun did not sleep. Irene fell like a stone. 

Then Momo was kneeling over her. Her eyes glowed a deep pink, almost red. She was surrounded by much of the same colour. 

“Momo, stop.” These were not her emotions. They were twisted. Familiar. There was another layer of magic to them as well. Also familiar. 

The other girl didn’t respond. Instead she brushed a thumb across Dahyun’s forehead. An injury she hadn’t registered. Then Momo tasted the blood, closing her eyes as she did. 

Dahyun used the opportunity to pull at those foreign emotions. A sour taste entered her mouth, but she wasn’t able to take very much from it. 

Then something pierced her neck. Teeth. Momo’s hold on her was gentle. Dahyun felt her energy plummet. Her body slumped, but the other girl held her steady. 

Immense satisfaction bloomed in Momo and she heard her hum. The grip of the crimson cloud loosened. Dahyun yanked at it, taking every scrap that she could. It burned, but she kept going. 

Momo drew away in the next moment. Her lips were bloody and her eyes pink, but no longer as dark. They were wide and full of horror. 

“Dahyun?” Her voice trembled. Dahyun recognised the shame and guilt rising up. 

She wanted to say something, anything that might stop that flow of emotions, but she couldn’t. There was so much venom in her system. She had lost a lot of blood. How long had it taken her to draw out the emotions?

The emotions were burning. She recognised who they belonged to. There was a distant friend of her mother’s, and one of her brother’s. It filled her with outrage.

Pain shot through her. Dahyun screamed. The emotions were entering the physical world and seeping into her blood. 

Momo’s face appeared in front of hers. “What’s happening?”

“Your magic,” she gasped. “Please.”

Two hands closed around her wrists. Cold seeped into them. She sighed. 

“Thank you.” Dahyun felt her eyes droop, though her mind was still on fire. Very much awake. 

Her face was stricken. “I’m so sorry, I—” Then Momo raised her head, listening. 

Dahyun could only watch as the air turned grey. It enveloped them both. 

“Go,” Dahyun said. “This isn’t anything you can fight.” 

She didn’t want to. She wished desperately that she didn’t have to do it, but she redirected the fear over to her. It was searing cold.

Then the grey ceased to come. She couldn’t move. At least Momo hadn’t gotten too much fear. 

“She’s right,” a new voice said. It belonged to a woman with long black hair. “Long time no see, at least for me.” 

“I know you?” Dahyun asked, her voice trembled. If she pushed the emotional world away, she could tolerate the state she was in. Her leg hurt, as did her chest and back, but it was a bearable pain. She felt heavy from the venom, though that fatigue could almost be ignored. Almost. 

Momo wasn’t moving. Dahyun drew on the fear in Momo. Her body tensed, but she forced some of the grey to form daggers. This was far more potent than what Helen had given her. It would be enough to overwhelm both Momo and Dahyun. She launched the daggers at the witch. 

The woman evaded them easily. “Hey now, you owe me.” The woman came closer, likely emboldened by the fact that she had incapacitated the two of them. It showed in her pride. 

The grey in the air strengthened, but it only went to Momo. She whimpered. The sound was small, yet its effect was great. Dahyun felt rage begin to melt the ice in her. At the moment, it gave her relief. In a few minutes, it would be agony. 

“Owe you?” Dahyun asked. They needed time. She took Momo’s hand, passing on tranquility and excitement—the emotions she’d felt in the café. The girl’s eyes briefly lost the terror within them. It wasn’t enough. 

“How else do you think you and your friend survived the fae?”

“You healed us.” Dahyun remembered the period before and after losing her emotions, both times. There were times when she relived it in her dreams. 

“Not perfectly, I know, but potions have their limits.” The witch had healed them to keep them alive, not help them. It would have been a mercy to let them die. Though the fae would have certainly killed her for it. 

“How did you find me?” She brought the emotional world down further. Not enough that she’d lose her senses, but enough to clearly see the fear. It manifested as large swathes of grey, hanging around the witch like a tapestry. Dahyun combed through it, finding the witch through how her pride was great. The fear had coalesced around her, and Dahyun was sure it acted as a shield. She looked instead for Momo in the emotional world. 

“I already did. How else would a werewolf attack gone unnoticed?” The woman’s pride surged even more. The root of a mistake, if she made one. 

Momo was wound in fear. It wasn’t passing into her deeper emotions, but she would certainly be overwhelmed by that fear. Dahyun began to take it. Then she stood, letting go of Momo’s hand. Crystals had formed in her blood. They pierced underneath the skin along her arms and legs, tearing at her as she moved. 

“Run when you can,” Dahyun whispered. She drew out a small pool of calm and gave it to Momo. Then she brought grief into the physical world. Several shards of it. She launched them all at the witch. They only disappeared, being absorbed into the grey aura around the woman. Yet the witch had flinched. 

Dahyun ran towards her, her body protesting as she did. She forced her fear to become physical again and aimed it at the woman’s head. It still didn’t pierce the aura. 

A force threw her back. Her head didn’t hit the ground, but the impact tugged at all of the skin that had been frayed in the previous fall. In the back of her mind, she wished all this pain meant relief for the next weeks. Or at least a few days. 

Dahyun pushed herself back up, barely stifling a cry. “You endangered the lives of humans, made someone a murderer, all for me?” The fear around the witch would prevent emotional attacks, but only those. If Dahyun did it correctly, she could break it down. She began to reach for the fear. 

Ice seeped further into her fingertips. It rose up her arms, folding around her chest. She felt her mind slip, straying close to a point she never wanted to cross. To the point after which she would be lost. What would this mean for Momo if she lost? She needed Momo to be safe. 

Dahyun kept pulling at the wall of fear, forcing the anger within her to come to the forefront. While it burned, the pain would keep her in the physical world. 

“You were there to save the girl. I knew you’d step in. No one was killed.” There was anger in the witch too. Insulted. Or was it an old guilt that Dahyun had tugged at?

Dahyun probed further. “But you’ll kill me?” 

“They don’t want you dead,” the witch spat. “That’s why I took the job in the first place.”

So that was the goal. They wanted her in a state of fear. 

“What did they give you? Except for this magic?” Dahyun tried to see what else hung around the witch. There was a concentrated source of happiness. It was Dahyun's. And it was Teresa's. 

Dahyun had killed her captors. All of them. How did they—she hadn’t destroyed everything. She’d been so desperate to leave that she’d left the rest so much. Too much. Shame crawled up her neck. Anger fought against the ice even harder. So she pulled even more on the fear surrounding the witch. 

Another pulse of magic forced her to her knees, one of her legs straining in response. She looked for Momo. She still knelt on the floor, but her eyes were grey. Grey. 

She had to do something. What could she do? Take the fear? She wasn’t sure how much more could be taken. The other option was to give something to Momo. Dahyun reached deep into her mind. She saw green and parted with it. The cold became stronger. She gasped. It was too much. She knew it. If any more came her way, she would end as Teresa did. 

“Run.” How she found her voice, she did not know. She needed Momo to move. To run. Perhaps she had received the strength in the last weeks. “You have,” Dahyun whispered whispered, knowing she’d hear it, “to go—” The fear rose once again. It cut her off. 

She watched how the witch tried to make a blade from the fear. The cloud pulsed around her. It was loosening itself from whatever grip the talisman had on it. Soon it would fight back.

“Don’t,” Dahyun said. The witch had to stop pushing it. 

The blade shot towards her. She stopped it, but another pierced her arm. Dahyun ripped it out. Her arm stung, as thought there were pins buried in the skin. 

Then Momo stood beside her. Dahyun felt her anger. Her focus. Directed at the witch. No. This could not be. 

“Stop,” Dahyun forced out, “don’t go—” The sentence could not be finished. Momo conjured ice in her hands and threw it to the witch. Each shard met its mark. Then she drove forward. Dahyun forced a wall of sadness to be erected in front of Momo, blocking her advance. She couldn’t be near it. 

The woman’s fear soared. As did the cloud. It would consume her. Dahyun tried to stabilise it, but it tore from her grasp. The witch’s screamed as the fear flooded into her. Her eyes glowed grey, almost silver. She was lost. 

Dahyun sighed. The cold was no longer being added to. It had coalesced around the woman. Her skin was grey. She trembled on the floor. She might have tried to send her back to her captors twice, but Dahyun felt a pang of sympathy. And guilt. 

Dahyun stood. She limped towards the woman, absorbing the wall she’d stopped Momo with. Her body felt heavier, but she was glad to have a foundational emotion at the forefront again. 

“What are you doing?” Momo asked. Her hands were outstretched, but she did not come closer. The shame had returned to her eyes. 

“It’s no fate for anyone,” she said. Then she made one blade of tranquility, breathing out slowly as she did. The cold was wrapping itself around her mind. Then she pushed the knife through the air and dug it in the witch’s heart. She stopped moving. Another life ended. Because of her. 

Then Dahyun’s body failed her, the effects of the venom had truly caught up to her. She stumbled.

Cool arms went around her and she leant into them, despite the pain the movement caused. 

“No, stay awake. I’ll get us home,” Momo said. “Take an emotion from me, take back what you gave me. I’m fine.” 

Dahyun felt cold. She was tired, but Momo was alive. What would happen when she closed her eyes? She didn’t know. They began to droop.

“You only feel that w-way.” Dahyun was still shivering, but she could speak. The sheer amount of relief had done wonders for her. “Because I—your fear is buried.” The happiness would keep it at bay. Momo had survived this attack due to the happiness and love already held within her. Dahyun realised something then. “Thank you. All of you” She leant her head on Momo’s shoulder. There was more warmth now, even though her mind was raw from the anger. She also felt that she had a few fractured bones. Hopefully none that were fully broken. 

“Don’t thank me.” 

“I’m going to wake up.” Dahyun felt herself smile. “Without you, today would have been my end,” she murmured. “I’ll thank you. Several times.” Then the fatigue kicked in. Vaguely, she felt tides of worry in the distance, as well as a wave of shame from the girl who held her. “Please don’t blame yourself,” she said. “I brought this here.” 

Then she fell asleep. 


	13. Sadness

Momo was cold. Her mind was at odds with itself. Not only had she hurt Dahyun, but she’d failed to protect her too. No, she hadn’t failed. She’d just been powerless. Overcome by hunger that wasn’t her own. Frozen by a fear that wasn’t her own. She’d been in control of nothing, not even her thoughts. That fact only strengthened her shame. 

Dahyun was warm in her arms, but it wasn’t a comfortable warmth. Sweat shone on her forehead and her eyes had rolled back into her head. Momo saw flickers of the colour, only to see they were bright red. Yet her hair was turning grey. So was her skin. 

She heard them coming. Whatever illusions the witch had cast had disappeared now. What sort of spell had been cast to silence the area? From the inside, as well as the outside?

“Momo?” Nayeon appeared in front of her. Her eyes flicked from her to the fairy in her arms. “What happened?” 

“The witch,” her own voice sounded distant to her, “the werewolf attack, she,” the words cut off. Tears welled up in her eyes. “She made me attack them.” 

Irene lay a way’s away. She wasn’t bleeding, but there would definitely be bruising from how hard she fell. Even if Momo hadn’t been in control, she’d gone for the human first. She knew it was spurred by her jealousy. Had Dahyun not stepped in when she did, the girl would have died today. She shivered. 

Then Sana arrived. Her eyes widened when she saw Dahyun. 

“She’s grey,” she said. “Why is she grey?” Then she was kneeling in front of them. Her hands went to Dahyun’s face. They were shaking. “Momo, why—” her voice broke off. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is. Please.” 

“It’s fear, but not like that.” Momo couldn’t look her in the eyes. Now that she had felt fear that wasn’t her own, Momo saw it so much more clearly in another. In Sana, it was absolute terror. She'd known that Sana cared about Dahyun, but not this much. 

She watched as Sana brushed a thumb over Dahyun’s cheek. When Momo looked up, she almost had to look away. The intensity in Sana’s gaze made her feel like she was seeing something she shouldn’t. 

“We’ll get her home. Both of them.” Jihyo said. Behind her, she saw the rest standing by the witch’s body. 

“You need to let her wake up,” Nayeon said. 

Momo did, feeling the magic in her words flow over to the sleeping girl. Her eyes opened and she groaned. 

“What do you remember?” 

Irene blinked twice. “We were walking, talking about the future, then Dahyun stopped. She,” a frown appeared, “was blown backwards by something.” Her eyes locked on the fairy. They widened. “Oh my god,” she stood, rushing over. 

“Calm down.” Nayeon gripped her arms. The girl relaxed immediately. “Did you have anything to do with this? Did you know that witch?”

Momo watched as Irene’s eyebrow furrowed, but her eyes glazed over. 

“Witches don’t exist. Unless you count the Wicca and all that, which I don’t.”

“And fairies?” 

She shook her head. 

“So you’re not with Dahyun for anything other than, what?” Nayeon’s eyes turned blue. 

“I like her.” The girl smiled, as though in a daze. “How could you not?”

“She’s at least fine,” Nayeon sighed, “you’re sore because after you saw Dahyun, you did your exercise routine a little too intense. That’s all that happened today.”

“I don’t have a routine.” 

Sana stepped in. “You tried it out. Now forget we talked to you and that you saw us. Forget you were here. Go home.” Her eyes glowed purple. 

Irene stood and began to walk. 

Nayeon’s shoulders slumped. “You’re so much better at this than me.” 

Sana smiled slightly. “It’s my natural charm.” The smile disappeared when she looked back at Momo. On her cheeks were leftover tears, but she'd got herself back from the desperation, at least partially. “Hey,” she squeezed her shoulder, “it’s okay. Let’s go home.” Then she stepped back. 

Momo stood, Dahyun limp in her arms. Again. 

When they reached the house, Momo wasn’t feeling as cold as before. Dahyun wasn’t warm anymore. She ran up the stairs, putting her on her bed. 

Sana was at her side. “What is it?”

“She’s absorbing the fear.” She drew away. “We don’t even know what her limit is.” Her eyes burned again. This time she let the tears fall. 

Then arms went around her. “It’s okay,” Sana repeated. “This wasn’t your fault.” 

Momo let herself be held. How could Sana say this to her? She’d been terrified Dahyun had been lost just minutes ago, and now she was comforting Momo. The one responsible for this. 

“Are you listening to me?” She pulled away to look at her. "It wasn't you." 

How could she know? She had no idea what had happened. 

“I knew what I was doing, exactly as I do now, but my thoughts weren’t working.” Only when Dahyun had brought her back, did she realise it. Only then had Momo known that she was out of control. 

“Exactly,” Sana said. “They weren’t working. You weren’t in control.” Her eyes were glassy. “So,” she raised her eyebrows, "how can that be your fault?"

“I could have fought it.”

“We don’t even know if that’s possible.” Her eyes went to Dahyun. “She’ll tell you.” A pause. “She already told you.” 

Momo just nodded. “What if she leaves?” Just the thought made her chest ache. 

The other girl’s grip on her tightened. “Don’t think like that.”

Momo closed her eyes. 

_I brought this here._ She didn’t want to tell Sana what Dahyun had said right before she fell asleep. Those words were a clear confirmation of what the fairy thought about the situation. And as much as Momo didn’t want to accept it, she prepared herself for the words, ‘I’m leaving’, to reach her ears again. 

______  
Dahyun woke up incredibly sore. There was a sweet taste in her mouth. The healing potion. It was slowly working. She wasn’t sure in which world she should be. In the physical world, her blood vessels burned, as though an infection had spread there. But when she was in the emotional one, a whirlwind of grey and red surrounded her. She could still see through it, but the excess emotions made her dizzy. It was impossible to remain in either for long. 

Then the pain from her blood drew to the forefront of her mind. Tears began to stream down her face. She had felt this pain before. Emotions had been forced into her, at such levels that it went into her blood. None of those emotions had been against the backdrop of fear. Now that the cold was coupled with the heat of anger, it was a terrible contrast.

The door opened. Someone was at Dahyun's side in an instant. Sana. There was too much clutter in one part of her vision, but she was able to see concern in brown eyes. 

“Can I do anything?” The girl cupped her face. 

Dahyun's tears were brushed away. Since they were not stopping, the movements didn’t either. Dahyun found it enormously comforting. Then she remembered how her emotions affected her scent. It didn’t take much thought to change the emotions that entered the air. It also didn't hurt. She continued to project more calm than fear or anger. 

“I don’t think so,” Dahyun sighed, “this is something that must heal by itself.”

“Where else does it hurt?” Sana’s hands were wonderfully cool. The eyes that held hers never wavered. They were only gentle. Dahyun hadn't appreciated enough of wonderful it was to be looked at like this again. 

Dahyun laughed. “Everywhere. There is anger in my blood.” 

“Is that what that smell is?” A tiny smile appeared. “You’re like a fireplace.”

“I suppose so.” She didn’t quite understand how her scent was related to emotion. Was every part of her connected to the emotional world? “Is my hair red?”

Sana shook her head. “Grey, but one eye's red, the other grey.”

Back to where she’d started. More or less. 

Sana was scanning her eyes. Her brow was furrowing. Her thumbs lingered on her cheeks. 

“What?”

She drew her lip between her teeth. “Are you leaving?” Her expression shuttered and Dahyun couldn't read it. 

The thought hadn’t crossed her mind yet. Her body certainly wasn’t in the condition to do so. She could take some of her sadness into her blood. It would work to bring her to a proper baseline. But work like that would need time. She’d have to be slow and she would need to be alone. There was no telling what might happen if she made a mistake. 

“You’d let me?” 

“You’re not trapped here.” Sana tried for a smile, but it died quickly. “Well, you aren’t leaving until you’re healed.” 

Silence. Sana wasn’t looking at her. 

_Just don’t lie to me._

What could she say to that? She’d be honest. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Dahyun admitted. 

She blinked once. “Okay.” Then she wiped away more of Dahyun's tears. Dahyun still couldn’t judge what she was feeling from her expression. Sana was hiding it. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” Dahyun replied, “but I've felt—” No. She couldn’t say that. 

Sana’s expression softened—saddened. One hand lingered at Dahyun’s jaw. 

“Will you ever tell me how you got these?” A thumb brushed across the skin of a scar. 

Dahyun felt her heart quicken. She winced as the blood in her vessels moved quicker. 

Sana drew her hand away. “Did that hurt?”

“No,” she shook her head, “I just—it’s all sore.”

“Do you need another healing potion?” The vampire started to stand. “We gave you two, but tell me how to make it, and we’ll figure it out.” 

Her heart swelled for the care the girl was showing her. 

“Won’t help, but thank you. I’d need something that can soothe every vein, artery, and capillary to help me there.” 

Sana giggled. “You’re gonna bring Biology into this?”

“It’s everywhere! In this world at least, so of course I will.” 

A small moment passed. Dahyun thought of yesterday’s events. At least she hoped it was yesterday. A witch who had corrupted a werewolf and then Momo. Momo. 

_Don’t thank me._ Those were unfamiliar words, but they were tied to emotions she knew. Very well. 

“How are,” Dahyun started. “Is—”

“Irene's fine. We got her to forget about yesterday. Momo is okay, she’s,” Sana hesitated. 

“Feeling guilty.” 

She nodded. “But the way she described it, that was an enchantment.” A frown. “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Did the witch have any other things with her? Not just potions, but,” Dahyun paused. How could she describe the talismans? How could she do so properly? 

“Coloured stuff?” Sana suggested. “Grey, red, and green?”

Right. They had given the witch happiness. Teresa’s. Dahyun’s as well. 

“We wanted to destroy them, but I didn’t know what that might do.” Her fists clenched. “You told Momo you could have died yesterday. I didn’t know if any of the fear would be absorbed.” 

Dahyun smiled. “You were right to hesitate. Helen had had such a thing. I didn’t glean much from it, but I destroyed it.” It had been agony, but it had to be done. She couldn't leave it anywhere for someone to find, as the surroundings would be poisoned by the fear. She would have been lost if she'd absorbed it. So she had to choose pain. “Did any of you feel afraid handling it?” 

“We were for you,” Sana gave her a look, “but it was just uncomfortable to be around it.” 

Carefully, Dahyun tugged at the emotional world, combing through the red and grey. In Momo, all of the foreign predatory emotions were gone and there wasn’t as much fear as there had been before, but it was still there. In the other girls, she saw curls of grey and crimson. None had absorbed the green. The bad emotions tended to invade a person. 

Then the smallest rush of electricity ran across her face and down her spine. It pulled her from the emotional world. She was met with hard eyes. 

“Don’t take it back. You can’t.” 

Dahyun wanted to protest. She wanted to say that those weren’t emotions to have, but she knew Sana was right. She would take it all later. There were other things that needed to be done before. 

“Where are the talismans?” Dahyun asked. “I have to see them. All of them, but don’t touch—wait.”

Then she raised her arms, gritting her teeth as the movement brushed against internal injuries. Then she rushed into the emotional world. The three emotions were easy to find. They were incredibly concentrated, vibrant in her vision, and familiar. She forced their auras into the physical world and pulled. 

“Away from the door,” she said. The other girls had come into the room by now. Momo stood by the door. She looked away when Dahyun caught her eye. She didn’t have to read her emotions to know that the guilt ate away at the vampire. 

The anger, fear, and happiness all came in as a mess of different coloured strands. Those strands barely clung to the wood of the talismans. The red looked like blood, the grey almost silver, and the green filled her with a sense of longing. She brought the last closer, turning it over. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. She nearly reached for it, but hesitated. What if this was what they wanted? Was it purely coincidental that two of the strongest emotions had been given to a single witch? None would know the intricacies of lacing one emotion with another, but she couldn't take that risk. They had found a way to take emotions. They might have found a way to poison them too. 

“Destroy them,” Dahyun said. “Completely.”

Gold confusion shone brightly in the air. 

“Why?” Sana’s hands were already starting to crackle. Dahyun was glad she was ready. 

“Won’t that one help you?” Mina asked, nodding at the green one. 

“I’ll explain after they’re gone. All of them.” She nodded at Sana. 

The hairs on her neck rose. There was a sharp crack, then two more. Dahyun jumped at all three. Then came the pain. 

Her heart plummeted, sinking down, suddenly weighing twice her body. The heat surged, but with it also the cold. Her body froze, but her blood was on fire. She screamed. 

All she heard were their voices. She couldn’t make out the words, but hands held her steady. Probably so she wouldn’t make existing injuries worse. 

As the fire took over the ice, she was afraid her blood might actually start boiling. It wasn’t as though she wouldn’t survive it, but it would bring her even more pain. 

Then two hands closed around her wrists. A less pronounced cold seeped into her. It was like that of sadness, but without the melancholy. It soothed her.

Her vision was tinged with red and blurred with tears. Dahyun took a breath once. It felt too cold in her lungs. She coughed, turning her head away from whoever was in front of her. She had a good guess who. 

“What was that?” Sana’s voice trembled. She sounded further away. 

When the world cleared, Momo was looking at her, brow furrowed.

“Nothing serious,” Dahyun said. Her voice didn’t sound very steady. “That was my mistake. Sometimes that happens.” 

She was grateful her captors hadn’t figured out the pain destroying emotions could cause. It hurt immensely if you were attached to them, far worse if they were her own. Sometimes it was better to keep one’s emotions, no matter how terrible, than to destroy them. That was why she would never part with the black, red, or blue within her. 

“Well, stop getting yourself hurt. Try an hour first.” Nayeon came to her other side. She touched Dahyun’s forehead. “One minute you’re hot, the next you’re cold.”

“Emotions fluctuate." Dahyun pulled the blanket closer, though it wouldn't do much to help. "That's going to continue.” 

“For how long?” Nayeon's eyes were filled with concern. Dahyun didn’t like seeing it. Nor did she like seeing it in any of their eyes. They couldn’t change anything, so there was no point in directing their worry at her. 

“I’m not sure. The injuries will be healed by tomorrow,” she said. “But my blood,” she trailed off, “I’ve never had warring emotions in it. Only ever calm or sadness, warm or cold. But not some exchange between freezing and hot.” As if on cue, the anger flared. A whine left her, but she tried her best not to move. “Stop looking at me like that.” She blinked away her tears. “You can’t do anything so go on with the day normally.” 

None of them moved. 

“Please go,” Dahyun repeated. “I feel like I’m a patient.” Then the cold came. She tensed. Fear made her heart pound harder. The anger would be even worse next time around. It would be best if none of them were here when it came. Could she make sure it didn't leave her?

“You kind of are,” Chaeyoung smiled weakly. “Again.”

“And because of the same person,” she said. “She orchestrated the werewolf attack as well. Lots of patience.” But too prideful. Again. These were the people Dahyun attracted. She looked weak, she was very often weak, but not as much as they all assumed. That underestimation had saved her life many times. It would be remedied soon. 

“She said you owed her,” Momo said softly. 

Dahyun closed her eyes. She could feel their unease. 

“I,” she broke off. There was no fear, but she remembered the first time she'd seen the witch. “She healed the worst of our wounds, the ones that would have led to our deaths.” She could feel the pain in her neck. Just a memory, but she remembered the sheer panic of that moment. 

Then the anger came. It flooded her system. She bit down in her lip, trying to stifle the scream. She vaguely felt the skin break. 

Momo’s magic returned. It seeped into her entire body. Dahyun's heart raced, she felt exhausted, but the pain was far less. 

“Better?” Momo's eyes caught her own. 

“Better.” Dahyun smiled, but she knew it was feeble. “Thank you.” 

“Can’t you get it out?” Jeongyeon asked. “Like how you said people study emotions.” 

“I could get it out,” she said. That was something she could explain to them, but it would widen their world too much. Even vampires didn't have to know of that part of the world. “But these aren't emotions that should be in the physical world. And if I do get them out, it is only in conflict." Something she'd rather avoid completely. 

“Why didn’t you use them on her?” Jihyo asked. 

“I did.” The cold returned. Momo let go. “But they didn't meet their mark. She'd managed to turn the fear into a shield.” The sequence of events ran through her mind again. “So they returned to the emotional world, and to me. Though when she—when I,” she corrected, “attacked, much of the fear she'd surrounded herself with surged back to her.” It was as though the fear did not want to be wielded in that way. It had retaliated, surging towards someone it could take over completely. That was also something she wouldn't explain to the girls. 

Dahyun saw Momo’s face fall. Did she feel guilt for this too? That was something she certainly didn't have to feel. 

Dahyun looked at Momo's hands. They lay limp on her lap, but Dahyun knew they were ready to hold her arms when the anger returned. Dahyun reached out and took one in her own. 

“Was there anything else?” Either questions, or their own revelations. 

“She was alone,” Chaeyoung said. “We tracked her scent as far as possible. Didn’t see anything there. Even the decoy scents.” 

“Decoys,” Dahyun repeated. The heat returned. Cool flowed from one hand to her own. Though as she'd learned in physics, warmth was what moved. If something was cold, it was only because it lacked warmth. She didn't think too far into Momo's magic. It hurt her head. She chose to appreciate it now. She could figure it out another time. 

“Some witches can cast that spell,” Chaeyoung explained. “Make a vampire think you went one way, when you actually never moved. Sometimes the spell works, especially if the vampire is hungry, but if you're paying enough attention to it, you can pick up on the trick." 

“It's a bit like what you’re trying to do,” Tzuyu said. “Going from burning to pleasant, then rotting to pleasant again." She smiled softly. "You don’t have to make it nice for us. We’ve all smelled worse.” 

Dahyun chuckled. There was a tugging sensation in her chest. Several of them, but at least they didn’t hurt. “Glad to hear that.” Her eyes drooped, but then the cold came. Until this ceased, she doubted she’d be able to sleep. Could she stand? Do something that wasn’t just lying around. 

She tried to sit up, but immediately hissed. Two hands went to her shoulders. The movement didn't just strain her blood vessels, but her other injuries. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Sana said. “You have to let at least one part of you heal first.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t trapped,” Dahyun grumbled. 

She smiled. “You're trapped until you're healed."

“Hungry?” Jihyo asked. “We can make you something that isn't cold or hot.” 

Dahyun’s chest warmed at that. The pain lessened slightly. “What fancy foods are available there?”

“Fancy?” she grinned, “we have leftover pizza. I can make a salad, vegetable or fruit. There’s also sandwiches if you want.” 

What could she eat most easily? 

“Pizza please.” 

The vampires began to leave, save for two. 

Sana took her hand. “Be right back.” Then she was gone. 

Only Momo now. One hand was still held in Dahyun’s, but the other was near her wrist. The rest of her body was positioned away from her. 

Dahyun said the first thing that came to mind. “She gave you an excess of predatory emotions. I saw them myself. None of what made you act that way was you.” 

“That’s not true,” Momo said. “I went for Irene first.”

“She was the weaker target. You’d incapacitate both, or get one to step in.” 

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I knew what I was doing, I—”

“Stop that right now.” Dahyun tensed when the heat came. Momo’s magic soothed it immediately. Did she know which emotion was surging due to her scent? “You might have known what you were doing, might have felt as though you were acting, but you weren’t. When emotions come to the forefront, they affect your perception just as much as thoughts do. Your senses lose meaning and time also blurs. There may be connections between those things, but it's nothing you can control.” 

When the fear came, Momo let go, but Dahyun gripped her hands. 

“The person responsible for this is dead.” That wasn’t fully true. Dahyun’s very presence here was the ultimate cause, but she knew that if she said so, the task of reassuring Momo would fail. “Even subconscious dislike cannot lead to such violence under normal circumstances.”

Momo held her gaze. “And what if someone else died?”

Teresa’s face flashed across her eyes. The heat rose. 

“No difference,” Dahyun forced out. The words needed to be said, no matter how difficult the pain made it. “In consequences, y-yes, but nothing regarding the actual cause.”

“But the consequences change everything.” Momo wasn’t looking at her now. 

“Of course,” she said. “But I–I also know grief and shame very well. Well enough to know when they’re destructive. And they might be now.” 

Then she reached up, carefully, not wanting to irritate anything unnecessarily. She let her fingers trace Momo’s cheek. There was a tickling sensation in her chest. 

“Words will not lessen it, but know that it was not your fault. I know that. And certainty for me is a rare thing.” Dahyun gave her a smile. 

The girl’s gaze was gentle, but the shadow of shame lingered. Momo was scanning her face, her eyes lingering somewhere below her eyes. Where, Dahyun didn't know. She just knew that all of this was making her nervous. The nice kind of it. 

Then the anger returned, strengthened by a quick heartbeat. She drew her hands away, clenching them into fists. Momo took hold of them. The comfortable cold returned. 

“Have you ever tried anaesthetics?” Sana appeared now, two objects in her hands. 

Dahyun shook her head. 

“Sleeping draughts?”

She nodded. “What is all this doing in a vampiric household?”

“I made it. We may not have much magic, but I remembered the recipes.”

Had Sana made it in this moment? And she still remembered something from centuries before? 

“They’re also the only things she can cook,” Momo said. 

“Yah,” Sana laughed, “at least they don’t explode.” She sat down on the bed. 

Not only was Dahyun enormously pleased to hear Sana properly laugh, but also overjoyed that Momo could be lighthearted. Was it put on? Or genuine? She wasn’t able to look at her emotions to know that. 

“Do you think it’ll put you to sleep?” Sana asked. “Or will you process it really fast, not at all? Unless you have allergies, there’s nothing dangerous in here.” 

“What is the recipe?” Dahyun leant her head back as ice filled her veins. It was beginning to be a nuisance rather than a burden. 

Sana explained. It was a fairly complex recipe. How they had gotten hold of all those ingredients, or had them in stock, she could only guess. Was there a shop led by witches perhaps? She would have to ask another time. 

“I can drink it.”

“Okay.” Sana nodded. “But first,” she lifted up a slice of pizza, “say ah.” A tiny smile began to play on her lips. 

Dahyun did, but after she chewed and swallowed, she frowned. “I can eat on my own, you know.” 

“Maybe,” Sana said, “but your blood's either freezing or burning, and whenever you move or don’t move, you’re in pain. Might be better if I actually fed you.” 

“She’s right,” Momo said. Her eyes had taken on a familiar lightness. Dahyun hadn't realised how much she cherished that element of her character. 

She got another bite. It did not clash with either of the two states her body was moving between. The perfect temperature. 

She tensed when the cold returned. 

“It might be time for the sleeping draught soon,” Dahyun said. She wondered if it would take away dreams. She hoped it would. Wait. Dreams. “Not yet.” She got up, ignoring the hands that wanted to steady her. Each movement made her wince, but it wasn’t unbearable. 

“What are you doing now?” Momo asked. The lightness has gone, replaced by worry. 

Dahyun was starting to get sick of the concern being directed at her. She wanted to remind them all that she was immortal. That irritation triggered the anger. 

She gasped. Then she coughed. Several times. She felt something on her hand. Blood? Anger? Both? She closed her hand, hoping it would hide it. Then she remembered their enhanced senses. 

Two different hands had gripped her arms, steading her, or trying to comfort her. Both? 

Dahyun gave them both a smile, but her lips trembled. With the new tears, she probably looked like she was about to break down. “You need to let me stand.” Her bag was on the far end.

They did, both letting go of her. Her legs were unsteady, but fine. 

“I'd like to prevent dream-walking,” Dahyun said. The cold came when she reached her bag. She leaned against the wall. The two girls stared at her. “It’s an ability of a mental fae. They normally use it for communication and aid, but with the right opening, they can do other things.” She didn’t really know what, but her mind was riddled with holes. They had been caused by the anger and fear that had filled her. Those holes could very well be beacons of vulnerability. 

“Did they,” Sana started, “use it on you?” Her expression was unreadable, but Dahyun could still feel the barely suppressed rage. She hoped it wouldn't be unleashed. It would only make things worse. She also couldn't help but wonder why Sana would get so enraged. 

“I don’t—once.” There was little point in lying. Dahyun dug around in her bag. Dizziness washed over her. Then she found it: a small vial of dark blue. 

“Sadness?” Momo asked. 

“Yes. It’ll be good for protection. I won’t risk anything happening.” She took out the stopper and tugged at the blue. It curled upwards, cooling her as Momo had, but it filled her with heaviness now. She sighed. “Leave the room,” Dahyun said. The dizziness was strengthening. “This is a very different type of sadness.” One that she knew came to people in the normal world. She wished it wouldn't be as widespread as it was. It was draining, but left you awake. This would provide her a wall to hide behind. The sleeping draught or exhaustion would lead to her sleeping. 

Neither girl moved. 

“It won't be good for you.” Dahyun felt herself slipping. She made the blue expand into a net-like structure around the room. She tried to avoid the girls, but it would reach them anyway. It would be confined to the room. She’d take it away when she woke up again. 

Once it had properly surrounded her bed, she pushed it into the emotional world. Then she swayed. Her vision turned black. 

_______  
Sana could only stare as Dahyun controlled the emotion. Her movements were elegant, purposeful, and her face was serene. Her eyes went from red and grey to a deep blue. 

That was when it hit her: a deep sense of melancholy that made her feel hollow. It was like she knew she was missing something, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was. It didn’t make her eyes burn, it made her not want to do anything. She felt hopeless. 

The scent turned from fire and decay into crisp mountain air. It cleared Sana's head, but she was still uneasy. Sana recognised it as Dahyun. She was everywhere. It was the expression of the fairy when she didn’t speak, but also the deep pain when she’d almost left them. What struck Sana the most was that this emotion, this sense of loss, might have been Dahyun’s baseline. Her normal. The realisation pained her. 

Then she saw the girl’s hands sink. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her knees buckled. 

Sana was at her side in an instant, Momo following immediately after. 

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Sana asked. 

She nodded. 

Together, they gently lifted the girl. Sana could feel Dahyun's body change temperature. She twitched in response, but didn’t wake up. The sadness came in pulses as they moved through the room. It was cold, but not freezing. Every movement of Sana's felt subdued, like she’d just woken up. They laid her down on the bed. 

“Will she have to say it again for you to believe this wasn’t your fault?” She reached out to Momo, taking her hand. “You can’t blame yourself for this.” She couldn’t forget the pain in Momo’s eyes when they’d arrived. She didn't want her to blame herself. 

She didn’t respond, staring instead at the sleeping fairy. 

“It was like coming out of a dream,” Momo said. “One where you’re in control. Then that control slipped away from me. What happened next was like a fleeting dream, as if I'm feeling and doing everything, but it's just happening." Her eyes became more troubled. "Then something left in my head, and I saw Dahyun, paler than ever, her eyes blood red. She was crying.” She looked up at the ceiling. “She was in so much pain. And I was the reason why. Even if it wasn’t me, those are because of me,” a nod to Dahyun’s neck, “and her back.” 

“Which she can’t feel because of the ointments.” Sana went over to her, wrapping her arms around Momo. “You’re sounding a lot like a certain someone.” She’d seen Momo look like this twice. Once because of another, and the second time because of the person who was lying on the bed right now. 

“Except for the fact that it’s not her—” Momo's brow rose. 

“Not her fault,” Sana finished. “Other people caused this. And it’s not anyone in this house.” One of them was dead. She wasn't sure what was happening about the rest. 

“That’s not what she thinks.”

“What did she say to you?” Her chest ached. Was it the sadness in the room? Or her own. 

Momo's voice was quiet. “That she brought this here.”

The door opened. 

“Out. Both of you,” Jihyo said. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “She told you not to be in this room, you two look like you’re gonna cry, and you’ve been in here for at least an hour.”

“An hour,” Sana repeated. “Please tell me that’s a joke.” It had to have been ten minutes. If even that. 

“Nope. Out.” Her gaze hardened. 

Sana and Momo did. When she stepped out of the room, all the pressure on her chest lifted. She felt rejuvenated. How had they been in there an hour? Time had flown by, but not in any natural way. 

“Better?” Their leader’s eyes were glassy. She closed the door. 

Momo glanced at her. “Better.”

“She said it herself," Jihyo sighed, "that emotion's a part of her. That means she can handle it. We can’t.”

They went downstairs. 

“I hate to say it like this,” Jeongyeon said. “But I took care of the body.” 

“And I found her hideout,” Chaeyoung added. “She was in Dahyun’s old place,” she frowned, “I found smaller versions of those emotion things. Yellow, orange and light blue. Last one’s calm, but that’s all I know.” 

Sana didn’t know either. “You didn’t break them?”

“Of course not. Not after,” she trailed off. “They’re where the others were for now.” 

Mina spoke up then. “They’re not like the other emotions. Those could be felt when you even got close. These, probably, only affect you if you touch them.” 

“Like the green one.” Sana still wished she hadn’t destroyed it. She could still hear Dahyun’s scream. Green was happiness. She had seen the look the fairy had given the talisman. It was one of longing, and then regret. It had disappeared the moment she told Sana to destroy it. “So they’re good emotions.”

“Probably belong to her too, right?” Tzuyu asked. 

They all looked at the youngest. 

“I’m not sure yet, but I think she was the one of the only ones they caught. Or at least stolen from.”

“Why do you think that?” Jeongyeon asked. 

Tzuyu frowned. “I get that there aren’t many fae, even less like Dahyun, but this is a lot of effort to go to for one person. Especially if you have others to,” a pause, “take from.” 

“Unless you never got to the rest,” Mina said. 

Tzuyu nodded. “They took her emotions, but kept her alive. She said they’re chasing her because she’s the youngest or the weakest, but it might just be because she’s one of the only ones they caught.” 

“So she’s the main target,” Sana finished. 

“Vampires were brought in, witches too. They’re all getting her emotions. Hers or Teresa’s. Maybe some belonging to the people lost in that war,” she said. “They’re desperate.”

It did make sense. If there had really been that much loss on both sides, they were past reaching a proper truce. Dahyun, their only real source for emotions, would be the only chance of protection from the clan.

The thought made her stomach twist. That meant they wouldn’t stop. Dahyun may not have said it, but she’d implied it that night: she would keep running. It would only end if she was captured, or killed. 

It wasn’t as if they didn’t know what life was like on the run. Sana and Momo had been on the move with their first coven when they were mortal, then after their second coven had been targeted. Tzuyu had also fled to Korea when the hunters started making deals with vampires, werewolves, and witches, all to get to their targets. They knew how this worked. At least the running and fear part. 

Yes, Sana knew all that, and she knew exactly that Dahyun was also used to it, but that didn’t make any of it better. The fairy was going to convince herself she had to leave again.

Sana had to sit down. She went to the kitchen, getting on one of the stools. 

“But first,” Mina began, “she’s not going to school until that fear and anger is sorted out.”

They nodded. Dahyun had been able to affect the mood of an entire school last time. And that had only been fear. 

_Only been fear._ Learning about emotions, discovering that they could be seen as colours and even made physical objects—Dahyun had given her a whole new perspective of the world. But with that perspective came new questions. Knowing all of this, how emotions could be used against you, how they could cause you so much pain, and how they could force you to act in ways that defied your entire being—it was all terrifying. 

She could still feel the sadness. It was nothing compared to earlier, but it still made her feel empty. What was it like in Dahyun’s mind? Did she feel like this? Or was it several times stronger? Did it not matter to her, because she’d lived with it her whole life?

“Hey,” Jihyo nudged her arm, “hungry?” She raised a blood bag. 

Sana smiled. “Thanks.” 

“Wanna talk?” Her eyes were gentle. “You don’t have to.” 

“I actually really want to,” Sana said. “Just not sure how to say it.”

“I’ll start then,” she winked, “with the why. Somehow we have a person in this house who we can’t help but love. At first, I actually thought it was her magic and the fact that she seems to have the worst luck in the world.”

A pause. Both took a sip of blood. Jihyo’s eyes turned orange. What emotion was that? 

“But after that vampire attacked, I don’t know,” she sighed, “even if it was passive magic, don’t you think she would stop it? So that no one would get attached?”

It hadn’t worked. “She would have tried anything.”

Jihyo shrugged. “I’ve started to think it’s because she’s just so damn understanding. When it comes to our world, she knows nothing. At all.” A small smile appeared. “But she’s open to all of it. I took her shopping at one point so she wouldn’t just have that grey outfit. She had no idea why we layer our clothes when it’s cold.” 

“And she went to a school with a uniform.” That must have been why she didn’t wear it properly. It looked like a fashion choice, but it was because she didn’t like how it felt. 

“Well, she went to school. Period.” Nayeon sat beside Sana. “She actually wanted to go to a place to learn, nothing was stopping her from living under a literal rock.” 

“Who knows, maybe she tried it.” Sana felt her chest lighten, before it quickly fell again. There was so much she didn’t know about her. So much that Dahyun didn’t know about them. She wanted that to change. 

Someone hugged her. “I know you don’t want her to leave," Nayeon murmured. 

“Please don’t tell me to be prepared for when she does.” When. She was using that word. 

“No,” she said. “I want to tell you it’s time you spend a little more time thinking about why you want her to stay. The both of you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“A big part of why she should stay is because it’s safer, which we’re definitely going to have to pound into her head the moment she wakes up,” Nayeon's brow furrowed, “but that’s not the only reason, is it?”

“We’ll think about that,” Momo said. “Later.”

The knot in Sana’s stomach loosened. She was grateful that Momo cut in. That she pushed the need to answer that away. Sana was far from ready to answer that question. By the time she got one, what if Dahyun was already gone? She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. 

The thought brought her more pain than it should have. That pain made her remember something else: Dahyun on the floor, bleeding, her skin grey. She hadn't moved. Sana had thought she was gone, in a state of fear as Teresa had been. That she'd been forced to suffer in absolute silence, lost forever. Of course, Dahyun running wasn't anything close to that, but she'd felt the fear of losing her. It had twisted her chest, clawed at her throat. 

It convinced her of one thing. Sana didn't want her to leave, but how could she stop her? Should she even stop her? Sana didn't know the answer to that. She also didn't know how she'd handle Dahyun leaving.

Nayeon’s grip on her tightened. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Sana leant her head on her shoulder, not caring that tears were streaming down her face. They weren’t because of Dahyun’s sadness. 


	14. Not mine

The day felt different without Dahyun around. Like a table was missing a leg: functional, but wrong. Momo didn’t like it. The air lacked the usual scent of fresh air. It felt stuff even though things had been like that before the fairy came. 

Though she would be told otherwise by everyone around her, Momo knew this was because of her. Maybe she couldn’t have done anything against it, but she was still the person who had hurt Dahyun. She was supposed to be the one in control. She’d lost it. 

Her mind was still reeling from the attack. She hadn’t recovered from it. Magic had done that to her, completely taken away her agency, forcing her to act according to what a specific combination of emotions demanded she do. She never wanted that to happen again. She wanted to ask Dahyun if that worked, but just the thought of approaching her made her uncomfortable. Even though she knew that the fairy didn’t blame her, Momo couldn’t stand the shame she felt. It surged when she thought of the attack. It hurt when she remembered how her skin and hair had turned grey, how her eyes had shone like molten metal, and how she cold she’d been. 

“Why aren’t you sitting with Jennie?” Jihyo asked. “This is the third day in a row.” 

Sana lifted her head. She’d been staring into space for most of lunch. “We’ve been texting.” Her eyes were tired. Momo was reminded of how terrified she’d been when Dahyun was hurt. Then she remembered the tenderness in her eyes whenever she’d looked at Dahyun. 

Momo looked away, finding the girl in question trying her best not to look disappointed. She felt a pang of sympathy. 

“We all know you’re not interested,” Tzuyu said. 

“Pretty sure she’s figured it out too,” Jeongyeon added. 

“Do we have to talk about this here?” Sana's voice sharpened. “Now?”

The youngest just raised a brow. “It’ll make things less complicated if you break things off now.” 

Sana looked like she wanted to ask why. She didn’t. A pink tint had appeared on her face. Momo knew why. One of the few problems with knowing people for centuries was that you couldn’t hide a thing from them, like who you had eyes for. Momo didn’t doubt for a second that they all knew she felt something for Dahyun. The same for Sana, as much as she’d like to think she was hiding it. Hell, Dahyun knew they both felt something—at least she had to have a very good idea. 

The thought gave her further questions. What was going to happen now? Dahyun wasn’t going to do anything, she probably didn’t know how to approach that. Would she be expecting them to do anything? It was something to consider: if Momo never did anything, never acted on her feelings, Dahyun probably wouldn’t know that. It’d make all the difference for Momo, but not the fairy. The only regrets would be on one side. That is, until Dahyun truly learnt about relationships. 

“Jisoo told me about a party happening next week,” Nayeon said. “We’re invited. Dahyun too.” 

“She’s never been to one, right?” Jeongyeon smiled. “Or did they have actual celebrations too?” 

“We’ll ask her,” Chaeyoung said. “I think that’ll be great for all of us.”

Momo could only nod. If there was one thing she enjoyed most about the modern world, it was the variety of music. Also the fact that you could dance however you wanted, not having to worry about looking proper and restrained. She was also ready looking forward to letting go. With everything that was happening, all of the thoughts and emotions she was having, she really needed that. 

______  
Dahyun woke feeling far better than she had in months. Her entire body was cool, given support by a near complete foundation. Her chest also felt warm and extremely light. The blue net was still spanned around her. It had tugged on some of her calm as well. Yet there were other emotions, ones that did not belong to her. She saw love and dread. Also guilt and worry. 

She got up slowly, each limb of hers yelling its protest to movement. Fortunately, it was not unbearable. The sadness had numbed her to being relieved or concerned about the emotions around her, but it had also made the bouts of heat and cold tolerable. Some of it would be lining her vessels now, allowing her internal protection. How had she not thought of this before?

Her mind went to when she had last used her core emotions this way. The extraction process from their captors hadn’t touched them. She was sure Teresa and her would've died if they had been able to take them away. When they were able to, Teresa and Dahyun had shared pieces of each of theirs with one another. Teresa's soul had been made of happiness. They had used them to try and mediate the terrible temperature fluctuations that came when a shred of new emotion was too potent. Even excitement, an otherwise harmless emotion, could give them heart palpitations, requiring calm to keep them from exhaustion. It had also been a way to escape the emptiness. However, Teresa had tapped into that source far more than Dahyun had. She'd had the strength to do so. 

Dahyun closed her eyes. Recent events had swept her away. Her thoughts had rarely gone to Teresa or her family. She missed her family, of course she did, but there was a disconnect there, so it did not hurt as much as this. Even so, she knew she should feel that pain, and the lack of it saddened her. A heaviness had reclaimed its place. She missed Teresa. That feeling hurt. 

Missing. The girls would be missing her soon. They expected her to leave immediately. She knew that. Was it better to leave in this window? To extend that window? Or to leave after it had closed? Each action would leave wounds. Wounds that she didn’t want to cause. Wounds that she wasn’t allowed to heal. If there was one thing she knew she'd never do, it was to manipulate their emotions unless specifically asked or given permission. Given what Momo had experienced, she also knew they would feel powerless if she used her magic in that way. That was a feeling she never wanted them to have. 

She opened her eyes. The sadness weighed her eyelids down, urging her body to go back to bed. She wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep, to think of nothing. That gave her the encouragement she needed to start moving. 

Changing out of the tatters that were once her—Sana’s—school uniform, she tested out the injuries from yesterday. Her ribs had mostly healed, the cuts were sealing and made certain movements stiffer than normal, and there were bruises, but they were already yellowing. 

Then she got to work on condensing the emotions caught in the sadness. She made all of the emotions physical, took most, but left all of the positive emotions that were not hers. As for the dark blue, she allowed herself to reclaim some of it. She let it seep into her blood. The relief that gave her was immense. She was reunited with a part of herself. She did not remember exactly when she’d separated from it, but she was grateful that she had. 

When she was done, she was left with two shards of purple. They were the size of her hand. It stunned her that this was only a part of the love felt for her. She was left to wonder, again, how such a thing had happened. No answers came to mind.

Just by holding them, she could differentiate between the two. They were different. That was a surprise.

Both had strengthened dramatically since the last time she’d seen their emotions. That was also unexpected.

One of them was completely warm, very similar to the other girls in that sense, but still mixed with lighter regions of pink.

The other had areas of cold, ones that were uncertain. Even so, they did not affect the deeper purple. While the two types of love were connected, they also seemed to be independent of one another. It made her even more confused. It reminded her that she had to stop looking, even though she had certainly not seen enough.

She opened the door, cradling the love in her hands. Her body wanted to take it for itself. She knew that if she took it, the fear within her would be better combatted. She knew it would strengthen her. It tempted her, but she couldn’t. It wasn't hers. 

The hall was warm. It was quiet in the house. She heard the slow heartbeat of one person. 

Going down the stairs was difficult. It strained muscles in ways she could never have expected. She needed to take multiple breaks. 

“Need any help?” Mina was at the bottom of the stairs. Then at Dahyun’s side. 

“N—yes,” she said. 

“Still sore?” 

She nodded. 

The girl held her by the waist, but did not carry her down. It was something Dahyun greatly appreciated. 

“The rest are at school.”

She didn’t ask why she was here. Mina sometimes stayed home. It was marked by a slow moving wave of uncertainty, fear, and discomfort. 

“How are you?” 

Mina smiled slightly. “Can’t you tell?”

“I could, but it’s better if you tell me,” Dahyun said. “When, or if, you want to. I’m also not in the emotional world.”

A nod. “I’m okay.”

They reached the bottom. Dahyun was sweating. Her stomach gave a light rumble. 

“What’re you in the mood for? We have leftovers.”

“Is there fruit?” She missed fresh foods, despite human dishes being very enjoyable. 

“Yep.” Mina pulled over the fruit bowl, getting a knife and a plate. 

Dahyun sat, putting the purple shards on the table. 

“What is that?”

“Love. Not mine.” 

There was a soft intake of breath. When she looked up, she saw that Mina’s eyes were wide. 

“Is that,” she started, “from one person?”

She shook her head. “Two.” She pointed to them, left, then right. “Sana and Momo. They will be able to tell which one is theirs.”

Would they want to see that of the other. Perhaps it would be interesting to them. They had never interacted with emotions on this scale. At least not in calmer moments. 

“And how,” Mina trailed off. She looked more surprised than Dahyun was. 

“I made a shell around me.” That would need a better explanation. “It acts like a shield, blocking others from coming into my mind, but a byproduct is a siphon-like effect that—” The idea struck her. Another thing she should have realised sooner. She stood. “I need to go.” 

“What?” The other girl stood with her, her brow furrowed. “You can’t go. Not like this.” 

Dahyun looked at her. That expression she couldn’t read. She drew on the emotional world only to watch an intense worry unfurling within the girl. 

“No! No, no.” She smiled at her, feeling her mind buzzing with this new idea. “I’m not leaving.” Not yet.

Then she left. 

______  
Going home, away from the everyday thoughts and lessons, Momo was left to her own mind. Again. It felt different than normal. Or was that just her perception of it? 

When the witch had taken over her mind, nothing had changed in her vision. She’d felt normal at first. Then her thoughts went to one person, someone who was still a mystery to her, from the way her hair changed colour, to her magic, someone she wanted to hold, someone she wanted.

Then her hunger had spiked, rising from her stomach and into her throat, clawing at it, begging her to find something to eat. She’d wanted—needed something. 

Her world had narrowed to scent: forests and mountain air. She'd become convinced that this was what she needed. Then she’d gone after it, following only the scent. There had been no room for thought. 

Walking through the forest now, Momo knew she was in control, but she was also painfully aware how precarious this control was. That was what was different. She was uneasy, uncertain of herself, despite determining every step she took. 

What she wanted now was to talk to Dahyun. Just about any question she asked her would be answered, especially if the fairy believed the information would ease Momo’s guilt. There might even be a full-blown lecture on how emotions affected the mind, just so that there would be no risk of misunderstanding. She almost smiled at the image of Dahyun presenting a powerpoint: Emotions and Perception. It was pretty plausible. At least after the fairy had learned about powerpoints. 

And yet, she also didn’t want to see her. The scars would still be there, even if she had hidden them. Both heat and cold would still be flowing through her veins. She would still smell of death or fire. Her hair would still be grey. 

“She just left?” she heard Nayeon ask. 

Just left. Dread yanked at her feet. She was in the house in a matter of seconds. “Left?” This was going to be it. The start of the one-sided regret. 

“Not like that,” Mina said, interrupting her spiralling thoughts. “She said she was coming back.” The girl’s brow was still furrowed. In front of her stood Jeongyeon and Nayeon. The latter looked concerned, the former confused. 

“Are you sure she’s—” Sana started, her eyes widening.

 _Are you sure she’s telling the truth?_ The words didn’t need to be spoken. Momo wasn’t sure. She was certain that none of them were. 

“Do you know where she went?” Sana asked. The ghost of that terror from before appeared. The fear of loss. 

“What else did she say?” Chaeyoung asked. 

“She was talking about a shield, one of sadness,” her frown deepened, “the one she made upstairs. Then she said she needed to go, but that she wasn’t leaving?”

“She had an idea,” Momo said. 

They all looked at her. Sana’s eyes were fixed on hers. Then she nodded, but the fear in her eyes didn’t lessen. 

“Explain?” Nayeon sat down. The tension in her shoulders had eased, but she huddled against Jeongyeon when she joined her.

“She told us that when they have an idea, that could mean disappearing for hours, even days.” 

The eldest didn’t respond for a long moment. “Doing what, exactly?”

Momo could only shrug. She had no idea. None of them would. They hadn’t gotten to that point yet. 

“There was something else,” Mina said. Her face had relaxed. She pointed at the kitchen counter. “Know what that is?”

On the white table were two purple objects. They looked like crystals, but whatever was inside them moved like a lazy flame. 

“Love,” Sana said. “Did she show it to you?” 

“Not exactly. She said it belonged to you two.” Her eyes went to Sana first, then Momo. 

Momo went to them first. They didn’t have a proper shape, not like the blades or rope she’d seen Dahyun create before.

Carefully, she reached out to touch one. It filled her with warmth and she knew exactly who it was for. It was a feeling that was purely good, but it also gave her a strong sense of vulnerability. There was a sense of being exposed. The contrast was overwhelming. It scared her. She recognised the emotion, but it was not hers. It was so unexpectedly broad, as though she’d dunked her head underwater, only to see how the depths stretched out far beyond her.

She took her hand away. Her head was spinning. “That’s yours.” She couldn’t look at Sana. 

When her skin made contact with the other one, she was struck by the same sense of warmth. It was joined by a burning curiosity, as well as admiration. There was also a longing, but very much unlike the hunger that had taken over her mind. 

She had to pull away again. Now her mind felt too full. It signalled the start of a very painful headache. 

When she looked up, she saw Sana’s eyes glowing purple. Not their usual purple, but a full spectrum of it. She was staring at the crystal, her jaw slack. It lasted for at least a minute. Then Sana drew her hand away. It was such a fast movement, Momo almost thought the girl had been burned. 

“Did anyone else touch this?” Purple eyes flickered around the room. 

Momo’s face warmed. She’d seen something she shouldn’t have. 

______  
Vampires didn’t need to exercise, but Sana was working out. It was her favourite outlet, but she hadn’t needed it for the past few weeks. Now there was tension she had to relieve, time she needed to spend. Her head still hurt from yesterday. Her face flushed every time she remembered what she’d felt. She had seen exactly what she was feeling, no ambiguity. It had all been there—quite literally—in the palm of her hand and it had been too much. Minutes had gone by in the span of seconds. Dahyun had said time blurs when you experience emotions. Maybe that was why none of them had known how long she'd been there. 

Momo had experienced that too. Momo had her own block of purple devoted to the girl. How could they both feel this for one person? How could Sana accept that fact so easily? What was supposed to happen now that both knew the other had heaps of purple in store for one fairy? And that fairy was all too aware of those emotions?

Her phone buzzed. Jennie. Sana still hadn’t broken up with her. It wasn’t the longest relationship she’d had, definitely not, but this might have been one of the most shallow. On Sana’s part at least. She didn’t know why she hadn’t called things off yet. It either left her mind or she dismissed it for later. It was wrong. She knew that. At least. 

**Free this weekend?**

Sana stopped jogging. 

**Yep! Any plans?**

What was she hoping for? A fancy dinner? 

**Not yet. Was thinking we meet at my place and go from there.**

No one came to their house. Most of the people Sana had been with thought it was because she didn’t want to make things awkward. It was more because they couldn’t risk anyone stumbling upon stocks of blood, or exploring the library. Old friends were invited over when they were in the area, as well as one fairy. The only humans who’d ever been here were maintenance workers. 

**Perfect.**

She put her phone away. Then she started running. 

“Hey,” someone said. Momo. 

She’d seen the emotions too. Sana’s emotions. It wasn’t that she felt ashamed, but something like it. Momo knew. Not like the other girls did. She'd felt what Sana felt. Momo wasn't anywhere near the jealous type, not like Sana was. But she was a person, one who was in love. Someone who had been deeply in love before. Sana hadn't. She'd gotten close with someone in her witch coven, Raven, one in her first coven as an immortal, Adrian, in her second coven, Selena, and another witch, Isabel. All of them she'd lost before crossing the threshold, either through death or otherwise.

Either way, she didn't know love like Momo did. Momo knew what that piece of purple meant—what it could mean. Sana didn't.

Breaking out of her thoughts, she realised she still hadn't responded. “Hey.”

“She’s not back yet.”

“I know.” But the words still disappointed her. “You think she’ll come back?”

“Don’t you?” Momo asked. 

Sana didn’t stop running. “We don’t know where she went. There’s no sign of her.” She didn’t think Dahyun would leave like that, but she couldn’t help but feel scared that she had. That she even doubted the fairy spoke volumes. 

“We told you that already.” 

“I looked again.” She hadn’t been able to hear anything, let alone see someone in the forest. Even the scent was tricky, because Dahyun had already spent a lot of time there, making the mountain air scent a constant among the trees. It just cemented a terrible thought in her mind: had she really left them and not said goodbye? It hurt her more than she wanted to admit. So much that she told herself it wasn't true. Several times. 

A small pause. “Me too.” 

The tone of voice was weird. Sana stopped running and turned to face her. She was staring at the floor, her brow furrowed. 

“Is this about yesterday?”

“Yes, and no.” Momo wasn’t looking up yet. “Can we talk?”

“We’re talking.”

Momo gave her a look.

Sana smiled. 

A short silence. 

“I’m sorry,” Momo said. 

“You didn’t know which one was which.” Sana’d had an idea, feeling more drawn to one than the other, but she hadn’t known for certain. 

“It’s enough that one person sees your feelings.” A small chuckle. “Even though one is almost too much on its own.”

Sana nodded. Just seeing her own emotions had confused her even more. Feeling them normally—at least in in terms of her normal—everything blended together. She just reacted to them. Here, she’d seen how far they went, how vast one piece of herself could be. She could pick out specific parts of herself that were usually hidden by the rest, like the fact that Dahyun made her feel calm, grounded, but also sad. That last part wasn't too hard to figure out. There were centuries where she hadn’t known Dahyun. Yet her heart hurt for the pain found within Dahyun’s own, a lot of which she knew nothing about, or had only seen glimpses of. 

Holding that bundle of emotions, experiencing them in that way, had shown her so much. It'd drawn her in fully. When she’d pulled away, it had tossed reality over her head. It had given her a warmth that spanned her whole body and spread to her mind. It had also left her with a headache and a heap of questions. Ones she didn't want answered. 

Momo had experienced that. Twice. And she was apologising for it. The look in her eyes was familiar. 

“We never talked.” 

“No.” Sana had a good feeling what she was about to say. Or try to. 

“You should pursue your feelings for Dahyun.” 

That was not what she’d expected. She didn’t know how to respond. Did she even want to respond?

“Seeing,” Momo hesitated, “that yesterday, and how you are—these past few days. I realised that,” her eyes fell to the floor again, “you’re better for her.”

Those exact words, that expression, it spurred her to speak. 

“Don’t start that. You’re pulling away just like she was.” Sana saw the conflict in her friend’s eyes. “You don’t think you deserve her, so you think you’re doing the right thing stepping back. You’re not.”

Momo couldn't step back. The last time she'd seen such tenderness in Momo's eyes had been years ago. The first time she'd seen it with Dahyun was when she'd had the fear attack. Sana hadn't felt jealous. That's how she knew this was right. 

A long pause. 

The next words weren’t said unkindly and there wasn’t any irritation in Momo’s voice. “Since when are you the expert?”

“I just know this trend.” 

“And you’re telling me what?”

“Don’t turn your back on this.” 

Momo gave her a look. “Are you trying to pull away? Even if you wanted to, you won’t be able to.” 

She frowned. “I have been.” 

“With Jennie? That didn’t work.” 

“Then what else do I do?” Sana's words were getting sharper. 

“Act on your feelings.” 

“No.”

“Why? You never felt this way before.” 

“You have.” Sana regretted bringing it up, but she almost had to. 

Momo’s expression softened. “And I would rather go through that again then have never taken the chance.”

“But you're not taking the chance here.” 

Her mouth opened. Then it closed again. 

Sana knew she was pushing her, but she couldn’t help but see the parallel. She knew it had to stop. Dahyun had pushed them all away because she blamed herself for Teresa’s death, for the attacks that followed. Momo was going to pull herself away because she blamed herself for the witch. Both were doing it for the wrong reasons. Both were denying themselves of something beautiful. 

“You’re not throwing away what you have just because you don’t feel good enough for her,” Sana said. “You shouldn't be feeling guilty for something that wasn’t even your fault.” 

More silence. 

“What exactly did you see yesterday? That things might be a little more complicated for me than they are for you?” Complicated definitely didn't mean 'better'. For anyone. 

“That you’re scared, but that doesn’t change the fact that you feel something for her.” A small smile. “Or the fact that you keep trying to turn this conversation around.”

“Do we have to talk about this now?”

Momo nodded. “You’re still with Jennie, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If you want to stay with her, do,” Momo said. “But if you’re not interested, you break it off.” 

It was Sana’s turn to not respond. This was not where she’d expected the conversation to go. It was not where she’d ever wanted it going. 

“Do you love her?”

“What kind of question is that?” Sana’s voice sounded harsh to her ears. “You saw it.” 

“But can you say it?”

“Don’t go there with me.” 

Momo nodded. “Okay.” She gave her another small smile and went towards the door. “But Sana,” she said, “she’s coming back.” 

"I know." The words sounded hollow. "I know," Sana repeated. Then she went to the treadmill, turned it on, and started to run. 

______  
Reaching the forest took time. She took frequent pauses, easing either sadness or calm into her blood, knowing now that this was the best solution to the temperature issues. 

It had taken a few minutes, but she’d successfully concealed herself. The humans who walked past would pay her no attention. She was unsure if it would work on the vampires, but it sometimes did on fairies and elves. Vampires, at least, wouldn’t be able to hear her. 

As she walked, she dug into her mind, pulling out strands of her own calm. They would need to be woven throughout the forest as well. Only then would the magic work. 

It was early afternoon, but autumn had made the sunlight cold. She enjoyed breathing in the fresh air, listening to the silence and distant cars. It was good to be out of the house. 

When she reached a suitable point in the forest, its beginning still in sight, she took hold of the emotional world. 

The process was relaxing. Naturally. It involved diving straight into the calm of the forest. She forced segments to condense, tied them together, and attached them to the various trees. Her mind became ever so clear, especially when she threaded her own calm into the mix. It was very much like a web along the forest, one of pale blue, striking through the leaves and trunks like sunlight broken by branches. It complimented the afternoon light, even more so as it became night. She didn’t turn everything into a thread, because it would be a noticeable change, even for fairies not part of her clan. 

When she’d covered this part of the forest, she sat down, allowing herself a break. Night was turning into day when she started working again. The ground beneath her was wet from rain. She knew she’d be covered in dirt when she returned, but that was alright. Only if she didn’t get it all over the floors. That would be a problem. If she washed off in the stream, wrapped her feet in an emotion, then the worst thing that might happen would be flecks of dirt, rather than smears. That was what she’d do. 

She closed her eyes and searched the net. The emotions of animals had caught on some of it, as well as trace amounts from humans. She also saw flickers of immortals, combinations of curiosity and worry, then disappointment. The vampires had passed through. It was working. 

Then she stood, going back through the parts she’d already worked through. She explored her work, half admiring it, half correcting the areas where she found gaps. By the time she was finished, it was night again. She took another break. The blue-black of the sky was broken primarily by light blue calm. They blocked out the stars for her, but Dahyun found the sight more beautiful. Many had come to this forest during the night and been enchanted by the tranquility found here. She was no exception. 

Then she repeated the process on the rest. Fittingly, it was a calming set of actions: take, shape, thread. It was a process she’d need to do when she got back to the house. If an appropriate radius was created around it, there would be ample protection. At least enough to give them warning. She would need to come to the forest every now and then to adjust any weak points, but also to ensure she had not missed anything. 

Night was already starting to depart when she was finishing up by the stream. The peace of the forest had not been broken, only heavily structured so that she’d know exactly what souls had crossed through it. She’d know their emotions, were they simply exploring or searching for something. If dark blue caught on light blue, she’d know if they were immortal. That was only possible after she’d given up some of her deepest calm. She’d be restless when she left the forest, perhaps more nervous in school, but it wouldn’t be anything terrible. This was worth it. 

The water of the stream was freezing, so she wrapped her feet in excitement, feeling the buzz travel through her, raising her heartbeat as well. That caused some internal injuries to flare in pain. The sadness and calm had helped her greatly there, but she couldn’t forget that she was still going to feel the effects of her inflamed and frozen blood. For how long, she could not say. 

The sun was coming up now. She let herself walk slower, enjoying the sight of the dawn coming through the trees. It was a beautiful collection of colours: pale blue calm and pale dawn. There were some areas where she had been too enthusiastic with her work. She loosened the strands as she went. 

Dahyun was nearing the edge of the forest when she felt someone at the edge of the forest. Immortal. They were scared. And the sadness they possessed was not just that of an immortal. 

“Sana?” Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. She had been quiet for so long. She’d forgotten how nice such long hours spent alone were. 

The vampire came into view, slowly. Not running. There was a great worry in her that was tinged with violet. 

“What’s wrong?” Dahyun asked. “Did something happen?” Then she remembered to get herself out of the emotional world. Now she saw the leaves more clearly: red, brown and yellow. She also saw a face she couldn’t read. 

“Do you know how long you were gone?” Her voice was quiet. There was a small change in her expression. What little showed through pained her.

Dahyun shook her head. Briefly, ever so briefly, she debated not doing anything more—considered turning away. If she did, would Sana do the same? Or would she follow? Or would she not do anything? Dahyun had no answer, but she wanted to do something. She took the girl’s hands in her own. They were warm. 

“Sorry, I must be cold.” 

Sana didn’t say anything, but also didn’t look away from her. 

“What I did in the room, I did something similar here.” Dahyun wanted to show her the result, but something told her this was not the right moment for that. “But instead of sadness, it’s calm. I’ll know what passes by or comes through. It’s how I knew you were here.”

Sana was still looking at her. Dahyun hadn’t noticed that the girl was a bit taller than her. Then she took her hands away. 

Had she said the wrong thing? 

Arms wrapped around her shoulders. She was pulled into a tight hug. 

“I’m muddy,” she said. 

Sana's voice was a murmur. “Don’t care.” 

Dahyun had been hugged before, but Sana had somehow pulled her closer than she’d ever thought possible. Her cheek was against hers and her entire body felt warm. 

“You were gone so long. I-I thought that—” She broke off. Dahyun felt something wet on her cheek. 

“I told Mina I was coming back. She did tell you that, didn’t she?”

No response.

“You didn’t believe me.” She couldn’t blame Sana for not trusting her word. The thought still hurt. She wanted to be trusted. Few of her actions had made her deserving of that trust, but she found herself yearning for it. 

There was no sign that Sana was going to pull away. Dahyun didn’t move away either. She wasn’t quite sure how to return the hug, but she tried to do the same around Sana’s waist as she was doing with her shoulders. There was no comment that she was doing it wrong. 

“Two nights. That’s how long you were gone.” The words were barely above a breath. 

“If you thought I’d gone, why come later?”

A tiny chuckle. “They said you’d come back. The first time, I felt dumb for worrying. The second time, I thought I wasn’t giving you the benefit of the doubt.” Sana pulled away, but only enough so that Dahyun could see her face. Her eyes were teary. “The third, I thought I was right.” 

Dahyun brushed a stray tear away. She didn’t know what she could say. She couldn’t promise that she’d never leave. That would be a lie, and she didn’t want to lie again. She didn’t want to say she intended to leave once her work was finished. That might make things worse. 

But was worse better? Would Sana begin to prepare for that? Each time it was brought up, it seemed that the vampire did not expect it—that she was afraid of it. The piece of love she had held not long ago—two days ago—it had held love, yes, but one mixed in with doubt and fear. Dahyun had never seen anything like it before. 

“I didn’t know you were here,” Sana said. “Until you said my name.” Her brow furrowed. “Were you hiding yourself?”

“Illusions,” she replied. “It’s not invisibility, but it’s overseeing details. None can pay attention to me.”

“Dahyun,” she pulled her lip between her teeth, “will you tell us when you’re leaving?”

 _If._ She wanted to correct her, but that would be another mistake. For the both of them. If Dahyun entertained the possibility of staying one more time, she wouldn’t be strong enough to leave. 

The girl’s gaze was gentle, but there was an underlying seriousness. 

_Just don’t lie to me._

What if she couldn’t tell them when she was leaving? What if she was in the forest one day and saw that she had been found? She couldn’t send them a message or go back. That would only endanger them. 

Dahyun took her hand from the girl's face. “I will try.” She could only divert her eyes to the trees. “I’m sorry, that’s not a good enough answer, but—” What could she say? “How about this. I can promise you that when I say I will, I’ll always come back.” It was one promise she could make with good confidence. “If it gives you peace, always ask me the moment I’m leaving the house to do my research or use my magic.” They were one and the same to her, but she didn't need to explain that now. 

Sana looked like she wanted to say something else, but the words seemed to die on her lips. Dahyun’s promise hadn’t been good enough. 

“Okay.” 

They stood there, still in this close hug. Dahyun was pretty sure one of them should have pulled away by now, but she wouldn’t be the one to do so. She wanted to know what the girl was thinking, but she wanted to figure that out how one would ‘normally’—at least in this world. Not all of her emotions were hidden, Dahyun couldn’t shut it off completely, but it was enough that little was clear to her in this moment. 

Sana’s eyes had not left hers. It should have been uncomfortable by now, yet it wasn’t. She saw nothing that was like the uncertainty from before. Fear was still coming from her, but it was different. Dahyun was reminded of the love she had seen today. Sana was afraid to love her. She wished she could tell her not to be, but that wouldn’t be the right thing to say. 

_And if they can do that, they can take it away again._ Sana had said that was what people feared when it came to love. It still did not make any sense. How could Dahyun be taking happiness away? It was an emotion she would never take away from a person. 

Then Sana looked away, but her gaze was still on Dahyun’s face. Was it on her chin? There was a hesitation. A brief increase in pink. The girl’s head moved slightly

Then the familiar uncertainty returned.

“We should get back.” Sana pulled away.


	15. Blue

When the house came into view, Sana heard the sounds of breakfast being made. Dahyun hadn’t spoken much, but she was fidgeting, looking up at every small sound. 

Sana’s chest still felt tight from earlier. She’d wanted so badly to kiss her. The fairy had looked at her with such curiosity, such warmth, such care, and Sana had loved seeing it. But it'd also been too much. 

That was becoming a trend. What she felt for Dahyun was too intense. What Dahyun seemed to feel for her was also strong, but Sana couldn't read it properly. It made her want to pull away. It also made her want to pull the fairy close and not let her go. 

“Pancakes today,” Sana said. 

Dahyun smiled. “I like them.” Her eyes had been light blue when she’d appeared from the trees—or Sana had finally noticed her. Then they’d turned brown. So had her grey hair. She didn’t want Sana seeing that. That hurt. 

They went inside. 

“So you did come back.” Jeongyeon smiled. 

“None of you believed me, did you?” Dahyun sounded playful. Key word: sounded. 

“We did,” she replied. “You can bet your ass that if we didn’t, we would’ve found you.” 

Sana hadn’t believed her. She also hadn’t found her. Dahyun had. 

“I’m sure.” The fairy winked. Sana couldn’t help but compare it to that look of loss in the forest. Dahyun was doing a good job at hiding her emotions now, but she wasn’t considering the fact that Sana had seen what she was hiding. Or she did, and that wasn’t her priority. 

“So it’s finished?” Mina asked. “Your net?”

“Mostly” Dahyun said. “It takes the smallest amount of emotion from those who walk though. I can sense that.” Her fingers were playing with the material of her grey clothes. The back was covered in mud, but she didn’t seem to care. Sana knew her front was also dirty, but as she’d told Dahyun, she also didn’t care. 

“Can you tell who the person is?” Momo appeared, “cute shoes.” She grinned as she looked at Dahyun’s feet. Her eyes were so gentle. That look cemented Sana’s belief that she had made the right decision in not kissing Dahyun. 

She followed the girl's gaze instead. She hadn’t noticed the yellow blocks on her feet. 

Dahyun laughed. “I needed to dry my feet after washing them. This was the best alternative.” She lifted her feet. “I’m sorry about the dirt.” 

“We can clean that up, no problem,” Nayeon said. “Cold?” She touched her arm. “You feel freezing.”

“I’ll be fine,” the fairy replied. “I’m used to the cold.” 

“Clarify?” 

“We’re a nomadic people, rarely spending much time in one place, especially if we were ever discovered.” Her eyes went between them all, never focusing on something for more than a few seconds. Restless.

“In one country?” 

“All around the world,” she said. “I never quite knew where we were, only that we travelled long distances sometimes, going across seas and through mountains.” Her hands hadn’t stilled. Something was wrong. 

“You liked travelling?” Sana asked. This was one of those pieces of information. One about Dahyun’s long life before meeting them. 

“Yes,” Dahyun smiled, “it was the perfect break from research.” 

“How much research was there?” How often had Dahyun spent days by herself, immersed in emotions? This was the same smile that Sana had seen earlier. She’d been so at ease in the forest, making that net, and Sana had disrupted it. 

“Very much.” She nodded. “An answer led to questions, whose answers led to more questions. The pursuit was quite fitting for an immortal.” While they were still brown, her eyes were practically glowing. There was so much passion in her eyes. There it was again. The urge to pull her close. 

Sana pushed it down. “Do you remember all of that?” she asked. 

“We have written a bit,” Dahyun replied. “There are—” she winced, “were texts in which I’d written.” Sorrow coated her features. Those texts had probably been destroyed. 

Sana wanted to turn things around. “So you’re a published author?”

To her relief, Dahyun smiled. “Yes. A grand total of three copies sold.” The spark in her eyes was back. 

The room went silent. Dahyun looked each of them. Sana found herself straightening when she caught her eye. 

“What?” Dahyun frowned. 

Jihyo was the first to speak. “It’s nice to hear you talking about something you’re passionate about.” 

Dahyun’s brow rose. Then it furrowed. “It’s nice to talk about it. I haven’t for quite some time.” 

She’d said they’d been on the run for four years. Was that true? Or had it just been something she hadn’t wanted to make them wonder about? Just how long had it been since she’d devoted herself to the most valuable part of her life—an essential one at that?

Then she straightened. “I ought to clean.” Her eyes scanned her own body. Her hands clenched and unclenched. “The charm on the clothes wore off. I don’t know why.” 

“Just toss them where I told you they go,” Nayeon said. Then she frowned. “But are they like cotton or wool? Or silk?”

“Does that matter?” Her expression turned into the physics look. Sana had to stifle the urge to poke her cheek. 

“If you want your clothes to shrink to a size that fits Chaeyoung,” Tzuyu said, “then no.”

“Yah,” the girl in question said. “We were doing so well without the height shaming.”

Tzuyu's response was a sweet smile. 

Dahyun went upstairs to shower. 

“You don’t wanna join her?” Nayeon asked. 

Sana’s face flushed. “I don’t—I’m not,” then, to her great dismay, she realised it wasn't what the girl was talking about. “I’m fine,” she said. Her voice sounded high to her ears. 

The eldest gave her a crooked smile. “Sure.” 

“Need help setting the table?” Sana went forward. The table was already set. Just her luck.

“Did you hear that, Yoo?” she called. 

Jeongyeon smirked. “I did. What emotions could have caused that?” 

“Not a word.” Sana tried her best not to pout. At least they’d changed the subject. She went instead to the kitchen, grabbing a blood bag. She took long sips from it.

“When was the last time you drank something?” Mina was sitting at the counter. 

She thought back as she swallowed the last drops. “Don’t remember.” She threw the plastic into the bin, her eyes feeling warm. She didn’t bother turning them brown again. 

The girl was giving her a look, a very thoughtful one. 

“What?”

Sana shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You sure?” 

Mina smiled. “Told you she’d come back. We all did.” 

“I know.” 

But she’d needed to see it for herself. She'd needed to see that there was someone still in that forest. When she saw that grey head in the woods, relief had washed over her. Like a very cold shower. Sana hadn’t known what to do, just that she'd wanted to be close to her. She'd wanted to tell her exactly how long she’d been gone. Unlike the other times time had blurred for her, that hadn't been one of them. She’d felt every second of it. 

What did that mean for her? Had Sana gotten too close? Probably. All the more reason to have pulled away today. 

Then Dahyun came down the stairs. It wasn’t the first time Sana had seen her in clothes that weren’t grey or a school uniform. She was just wearing a loose black shirt and sweatpants. Dahyun hated clothes that were tight in any way. It shouldn’t have been different than any other time, but it was. 

Dahyun's hair fell haphazardly, still dripping lightly from the shower. She had a bright smile on her face. Not for the first time, Sana could only stare. This time, however, she went over to her. The fairy’s heart beat quickly, but at least she wasn’t so restless. 

“Feeling better?” Sana asked. Joining the scent of nature was a light vanilla one. 

Dahyun's eyes lingered on hers. They were still warm. Dahyun was staring at the purple in them. Sana wasn’t sure if she should turn hers back to brown or let the colour stay. 

Then the fairy smiled. It was genuine, but Sana couldn’t help but feel like Dahyun was taken aback that she’d asked her anything. Had she been expecting Sana to avoid her again? “Much.” Then she looked at her fully, eyes going to her front. “You didn’t want to shower?”

“I told her she should,” Nayeon paused, “join you, but said she was fine like that.” 

Sana could have sent a couple of sparks her way. More than a couple. 

Dahyun tilted her head to the side. “Join me?” 

She wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that the fairy hadn’t understood that. 

The eldest vampire gave her a look. “I’ll leave you to explain that one.” Then she left them standing by the stairs. Sana wanted the floor to swallow her up. 

“You seem uncomfortable.” Dahyun smiled slightly. “I don’t even need to feel your emotions to that.” Then her hand brushed Sana’s cheek. “Is this something that always comes when one isn’t at ease?”

“Basically,” Sana nodded, “you blush when you’re uncomfortable, nervous, embarrassed, or flustered.” She was a few of those things now. Dahyun would be able to see that. 

“Flustered?” The fairy started walking to the table, inspecting the food already there. Her eyes lingered on the cereal, a question in her eyes. “Isn’t that the same thing as embarrassed?”

Nothing seemed to be going her way today. 

“Basically,” Jeongyeon nodded, “but take these two here.” She pointed at Mina and Chaeyoung. "When it all started, Chaeyoung got flustered every time Mina smiled at her. It was the same deal the other way round.”

“Hopeless cases for a few decades,” Tzuyu said. 

“More,” Nayeon rolled her eyes, “Jeongyeon and I took four, they took at least at least ten.” 

Mina was looking firmly at the table. “There was no rush,” she muttered. 

“And that,” Jihyo shot a grin at Dahyun, “is embarrassment, but she’s not flustered.” 

Dahyun was smiling. “Understood.” This smile didn’t reach her eyes. 

Breakfast went on normally. The girls had asked her about the colours of emotions and what each of their eye-colours would mean in the emotional world. Mina’s were a combination of green and blue, happiness and tranquility, Jeongyeon’s were green, happiness, and Jihyo’s orange, humour. 

“Well, Jihyo has her moments,” Nayeon grinned, “but I wouldn’t say she’s that hilarious.” 

“And you’re not exactly a calm person, Im,” Jeongyeon laughed, “whereas I’m brimming with joy.” 

Sana noted how no one addressed the colours of herself, Momo, Chaeyoung or Tzuyu. Dahyun didn’t offer, while none of them asked. It was like none of them asked Dahyun about her core emotions. They were colours they all knew. They were also ones they knew could bring down the lighthearted mood. 

When Dahyun looked up, Sana realised she’d been staring. Again. She got a small smile from the girl, one tinged with sadness. It was a smile that tugged at her, making her want to wrap her arms around Dahyun. Again. 

“I got another idea in the forest today,” she said. “Might have been yesterday.” A small frown appeared. Then her eyes left Sana’s. She was fiddling with her fork, then the knife. Dahyun didn’t fiddle. She sat still. Her mind might have always been working, but her hands rarely did it with her. 

_Idea._ What was once a simple word now made her tense. An idea meant disappearing for hours, days, without a trace. 

“What was it?” Momo asked. Sana knew what that voice meant, but Dahyun wouldn’t. She didn't know the effect her words could have in this moment. 

The fairy looked at her for a long moment. The gaze was thoughtful, but it wasn’t the physics look. “The closest I've ever come to being fully controlled by an emotion was when they gave me anger, as well as when Helen gave me fear,” she said. “It's not happened, because I have a natural protection to such a thing.” Her hand rose and a dark blue shard appeared. Her expression didn’t change. “I would like to give all of you your own. It will never be able to protect you from emotional pain,” now her face fell, “but you won't ever have your sense of self taken away from you and replaced by an emotion.” The shard disappeared, but her eyes were still blue. She stared at the table. “That is, if you'd like to have that. I understand if you wouldn't want an emotion like that in your minds. Especially one such as sadness.”

No one said anything. 

“It’s nothing for which you should respond now.” Dahyun shook her head. “But it would be something to be done before I leave.” She spoke so quickly, wasn’t deliberating on her words like she usually did. 

_Before I leave._ The words echoed in Sana’s mind. She’d known Dahyun was leaving. They’d even started using 'when' and 'will', either Sana said it, or Dahyun didn’t deny it, but this was a direct acknowledgement. 

A hand took hold of her own. It was Mina's. Sana’s eyes felt warm again. She closed them, not wanting Dahyun to see that. Then she realised it wouldn’t matter. Dahyun would be able to feel what she felt. She kept her eyes closed. 

“How would it work?” Nayeon asked. 

Sana opened her eyes. Dahyun was looking at her. Her hands were clasped together on the table. Too tightly. What had happened to her? Was the fear returning?

“I know it will keep you from being controlled by them, but I know not yet how,” Dahyun said. "It’s an emotion that drains, drawing on other emotions. Because most people reject feeling it, there is a pattern of pulling and pushing away with sadness. I think that comes to the forefront and works as it does.” She sighed. “Nothing to put trust in, I know, I will try and figure that out.” She started to stand. 

“Wait,” Sana said. 

She did. Her hands were still glued together, trembling. 

“When was the last time you slept?” 

“I rested in the forest.” 

“I don’t think that counts,” Jihyo said. 

“Of course it does, someone in my clan once went—” Dahyun stopped talking. “The right emotions can energise us in the same way that sleep does.”

“Then why did I find you knocked out in a library?” Nayeon asked. 

There was a near imperceptible frown, but it was still there on Dahyun’s face. She was normally so patient. Even if they played something competitive, Dahyun didn't even frowned if she lost, which was a lot. 

“That was different.” Then she looked between each of them. “If I’m healthy, I do not need to sleep.” Each word was punctuated. 

“And you’re healthy?” Momo’s voice was quiet. 

Dahyun’s frown deepened. “You seem to forget a key piece of information. I’m not human.” Her voice was harsh. Then she stood fully. “Thank you for the breakfast.” She started taking their plates into her arms. “I will go to the trees again while you’re at school, but,” her eyes found Sana’s, “I will be back this evening.” 

“It’s still the weekend,” Tzuyu said. 

“Ah,” a small smile, “I will still be back later.” They watched her load the dishwasher. They watched her leave. 

There were a few seconds of silence. Sana didn’t feel scared that she was going to go. She might not have liked the promise Dahyun gave her, it had so many holes to it, but it applied to the words she’d just said. She was coming back. That thought alone let a lot of the tension in her shoulders fall away. 

Sana stood now. “I’ll be back later too,” she said. “I think we let her help us.” Dahyun was convinced it would help, that it would protect them, and that peace of mind was something Sana wanted her to feel. She didn’t doubt it would work, but she wondered what it would cost. If it hurt Dahyun, Sana would reconsider accepting immediately. 

She pulled out her phone when she got outside. She pressed on Jennie’s name. 

**Sorry I’m late. On my way now. We need to talk.**

_____  
“Do we tell her yes?” Chaeyoung looked between them all. “I’m pretty sure it works. She wouldn’t just throw this out if she wasn’t sure.” 

“It’ll work,” Nayeon said. “But,” she trailed off. 

“You heard how she’ll do it,” Momo cut in. “She’s going to give us some of her core emotions.” Some of her soul. Just to make sure that what happened to Momo wouldn’t happen to any of them. It warmed her heart, but it didn't get rid of her dread. 

Something had changed in Dahyun since coming back from the forest. She was restless. Even eating breakfast had seemed like a challenge for her. Whatever she’d done, it hadn’t been good for her. She also wasn’t sleeping, when she actually needed it. Because no matter what she might say, however many times she’d tell them ‘I’m not human’, Dahyun wasn’t indestructible. Momo was sure that the fairy knew this, but she wanted people to think the opposite. Either that, or she wanted them to think they didn’t need to care. Both would be wrong. 

“We don’t know what that means,” Mina replied. “We should ask when she comes back.” 

Momo got to her feet. 

“Where are you going?” Jeongyeon asked. She glanced at the two other empty chairs. 

“I’m asking her now.” This was supposed to be Dahyun’s equivalent of ‘me time’. She wasn’t comfortable in the house, or at least she didn’t like being indoors all the time. She needed time to herself, outside. And Momo was going to interrupt that solitude. 

She left the house, noting how Dahyun’s scent was distinct the forest’s, more potent. Whatever Sana had said to her, or whatever Dahyun had gathered from Sana, it'd had an effect. She wasn’t hiding herself completely. 

Still, Momo had to make her own presence known. 

“Dahyun?” she called. For a brief moment, she wondered if the fairy was too deep in the emotional world to hear her. How she’d get her attention otherwise, she wasn’t sure. 

She tried to pick up on a change in the forest. She didn’t. The only thing she did feel was the constant calm of the forest, as well as her own unease. 

“You’re not going to drag me off to bed, are you?” Dahyun stood off to the far right. 

Momo went over to her. She didn’t seem fazed by the speed, only looked at her with an inquiring gaze. It reminded her of when they’d first met. Dahyun hadn’t exactly been cold, but she had been withdrawn. Momo tried not to dwell on that as she looked at the person in front of her. 

“If you take those emotions out, what happens?”

Dahyun's expression thawed immediately. Sometimes she was able to hide her emotions, others they were plain as day. This was the latter. She was caught off guard. 

“Nothing?” She traced the bark on a tree. “With the dark blue, I might feel lighter without it.” Dahyun still looked so distant. 

“Why aren’t you sure?” Momo asked. 

Dahyun's eyes flicked to hers. “You don’t like the simple answers.” 

The irony almost made her smile. “Neither do you.” 

A smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. This side of Dahyun was different. “Right.” She was holding something in her other hand. Well, not exactly holding. Eight dark blue crystals swirled around her hand. Spindles extended from them now and then, dancing in the air. 

Was it ironic that the sight saddened Momo? Or fitting? “You already took it out?”

She nodded. “And you see I’m fine.” Her voice was flat, her gaze fixed on the canopy of trees. 

Momo did see. She saw that Dahyun wasn’t fine. 

The fairy looked at the emotions, a frown playing on her face. Again. “It’ll work. I know.” Then another blue shard appeared in her other hand. It stretched and curled. The movement was elegant, almost lazy. Then grey mist appeared. It encircled the blue. Just looking at it made Momo uneasy. She’d felt that fear before. It was a deep-rooted one that grabbed your chest and heaved. It took hold of you slowly. It didn't let go unless it was taken away by another. Dahyun had been the one to do that for Momo. 

Grey coated the blue like snow clings to trees. Then it disappeared, absorbed into the blue. 

When Momo looked back at Dahyun, she was smiling. It was a real one, but her eyes were both grey and dark blue: fear and sadness. How could Dahyun smile when those emotions were at the forefront of her mind? As she thought it over, she saw the answer in her other hand. Eight swirling pieces of Dahyun’s sadness that were all capable of making that fear go away, or whatever that had been. 

“You weren’t out that long.” Ten minutes probably. “You already knew it would work.”

“I know it will help,” Dahyun said. “There'll be no side effects for you, save, perhaps, a brief thought of me if that sort of sadness flares.” Her brow furrowed. “Can’t change that.” She held Momo in place with a look that wasn’t the physics one. Her irises were turning fully blue. “I understand if you don't want another foreign emotion in your mind. You don’t have to say yes to it.” Hints of gold appeared. Was that confusion?

“But you said we’ll be safer.” She looked so uncertain, but what could Momo say to make her feel better?

“You will be,” Dahyun nodded, "but if you don’t feel safe with it, that might be worse.” Then she looked away. “And I won’t make you fearful for a lifetime.” 

“What do you mean by that?” They were talking about things where Momo needed more time to process the information. “The fear part I get, but a lifetime?”

A long pause. Way too long. It yanked at her chest, similarly to how the fear of the witch had. She needed to hear an answer. She almost doesn’t care what she hears. She couldn't bear the feeling of not knowing. Not this time. 

“Only I can take it away.” The blue shards stopped their cyclical journey. All of them fell into Dahyun’s waiting palm, lined up in shallow arc. “And even if I,” her voice caught, “even if I'm not there to take it back, it won’t ever fade.” The fairy’s eyes were the colour of the ocean when it was cold. 

The pause came again. Momo wanted to press play, but she couldn’t find the button. Just the suggestion—just the prospect that Dahyun would never come back because she couldn’t—clawed at a pain within her, one that came to the surface now and then, but only as something she remembered. This was threatening to be something she would experience. Again. 

“So that’s something I need to make clear to the rest, isn’t it?” Dahyun said softly. “Then they will know the full breadth of it?”

“No.” The word sounded distant to her. “I mean, that’s not—” She couldn’t get a word out. Images of a motionless body in her arms came to mind and her chest caved at the memories. She saw Dahyun’s grey eyes, her grey hair, and grey skin. She remembered how she had also been limp in her arms. Twice. Or was it more now? Each time she’d known. Dahyun was alive. What if in the next, she wasn’t? What if Momo wasn’t even there? They’d never even know if she’d died. 

“Momo?” Two hands took hold of her own. They were warm. “What do I do?” Her eyes were turning green and purple. 

“Remember what I did.” Momo took two breaths, or tried to. “What I did before when you needed it?” Why was her body so cold? Why were her hands starting to feel warmer? 

Immediately, Momo found herself being led to a tree. Then they were sinking down towards the ground. The scent of the forest had strengthened, but joining it was that of flowers. Together, they pushed the images away from her, but her thoughts were still stuck in the worst-case scenarios. She couldn’t go through that. Not again.

“You’re gonna get your clothes dirty again,” Momo could only say. It was better than telling her not to go. To stay with them. To stay with her. 

“Not this time.” The words resonated in her mind. The warmth had spread to her head. She recognised the feeling. It was the same one she’d felt when holding the shard of purple the other day. 

The ground was warm below them. It wasn’t soil. Momo was able to look down. It was green and purple. The hole in her chest wasn’t being filled, but its edges had been smoothed over. She still felt afraid. 

Dahyun’s arms wrapped fully around her shoulders. 

“I’m cheating when I say this, but breathe.”

Momo laughed. There was finally something warmer in her eyes. Something familiar. “You’re cheating now. Stop giving me those emotions.” 

Dahyun didn’t address Momo’s request. “Now,” she murmured. “What story do I tell you?”

“One that makes you happy.” 

A pause. Momo knew then she’d said exactly the wrong thing, had brushed against an exposed nerve that she’d known nothing about. 

“We found many excuses to celebrate,” Dahyun said. “It didn’t matter if someone had found something new in the emotional world or the physical one, if we had something new to understand or use, we celebrated.” A small huff. “My brother was very vocal when it came to his emotions. Unusually so. It was at the praising of a discovery he’d made on nervousness that he’d told Teresa he felt nervous whenever she was around. She, not being as expressive in that sense, had launched a slab of it at him. He’d tried to dodge, but you can change the state of an emotion, which Teresa did. He was soaked in it.” 

“Why did she throw it at him?” Momo didn’t feel afraid anymore. She hoped that Dahyun hadn’t taken the fear from her. It might have been a terrible feeling, but it wasn’t something she wanted the fairy to feel again. She’d experienced it too many times. 

“I still don’t know. Perhaps because his research had been encouraged as a result? He’d certainly felt nervous because of her after that.” A pause. “I know it was funnier at the time, but I cannot show you memories. Only a mental fae could.”

“It helped,” Momo said. It was a peek into Dahyun’s world. She was happy with whatever she could get. As long as Dahyun was willing to give it. 

“I’m glad.” 

She shifted so that she could see her, but the girl was looking at the trees above them. The words sounded sincere and Momo was sure she meant them. This was a happy story for her. And yet, instead of happiness and warmth, she saw only cold in Dahyun’s eyes, which weren’t blue, brown, or grey. They were black.

______  
When Dahyun returned to the house, Momo had gotten dressed and gone out, saying something about a dance studio. Chaeyoung and Mina sat together watching a movie. The rest of the girls had dispersed, to what, Dahyun did not know. They both smiled when she got back. Somehow, Dahyun’s thoughts went elsewhere when she saw the two so close. She thought of movie evenings where she was surrounded by two others. Her face warmed. 

“Figured it out?” Mina asked. 

She looked down at the blue in her hand. “Yes.” 

“That was fast,” Chaeyoung said as both stood up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Dahyun set the eight pieces on the dining table. “I spoke to Momo and it showed me that I must make something very clear about what this means.” 

“Shouldn’t you be telling us this when we’re all here?” 

“There are some things I cannot say if you are all here.” If two specific people were there. “Please, can I say this here? In this moment and not the next?”

The two exchanged looks. It seemed they could read one another’s expressions extraordinarily well. Dahyun smiled at the sight. That was what a proper love should look like, shouldn’t it?

“Okay,” Mina said. 

“Spill.” Chaeyoung sat down at the dining table. 

Dahyun and Mina followed. 

She began with explaining what the sadness could actually do: draw on emotions, but let them diffuse back into the emotional world. It was a form of suppression. It was a lie. 

“The positive emotions won’t be affected as easily as the negative ones, though you might feel an additional, stranger sadness whenever you experience melancholy or something similar.” She showed them what she had shown Momo with her own sadness. 

When grey closed around blue and sank into it, she felt how the fear pierced into her mind.

She stilled her features, knowing that any sign of being affected would cause the vampires to refuse. It was one of the things she could never tell them. Any foreign emotion that was forced upon them, particularly if it was fear, grief, or anger, would be redirected into Dahyun’s emotions. It would not matter how far away she was, she would receive it. The emotions would not settle into their minds. 

“So no sad movies for us,” Chaeyoung said.

“Might be best.” Dahyun laughed slightly. “You’ll also think of me, as it is my emotion, one that makes me up as a being. I know that sounds confusing, but I call it a core emotion for a reason, even though there is no proper translation for it.” She took one breath. “If, by any chance, another emotional fae has joined the others,” she trailed off. The thought alone made her bristle with anger. Pain pricked along her arms and legs in response to it. She forced the sadness to return to her, making it seep into her blood again. “They wouldn't be able to take it away, nor does it fade when I die.” 

Both flinched at the mention of it. She saw hints of pain rise, a pain she didn’t want to cause any of them, but one she knew would be caused anyway. 

“Is that all?” Mina asked. 

Dahyun nearly smiled. The girl knew full well it was not. 

“When all of you have either accepted or rejected my offer to give you the sadness, I’m leaving,” Dahyun said. “So no delaying your decision so that I stay longer.”

The smile on Chaeyoung’s face was shaky. 

“I do not want to phrase it as such, but six of you, I know, will be able to recover from this pain. Two of you, I’m not certain.” The only love she knew was that felt for family, or those very close to being family. One didn’t necessarily recover, but it was something she’d seen either be buried or accepted. Romantic love was something she didn’t know. Loss of it was even more foreign to her. 

“Let’s not beat around the bush,” Chaeyoung said. “You’re talking about Sana and Momo.” 

Dahyun nodded. “Momo has experienced that pain before, Sana hasn't.” Another breath. “They are people you’ve known for centuries. I…I don’t want to cause them this pain, but I know that I will.” Her fingers had knotted together. She'd known the restlessness would come after her work in the forest, but this was painful. She loosened the grip of her hands. 

“I hate to say it,” Chaeyoung began, “but you wouldn’t be doing that if you stayed.”

She closed her eyes, feeling them start to burn. “I know.” 

“So you also know the difference between loving someone and being in love with them?” It was Mina asking. 

“I’ve heard of the latter,” Dahyun replied. “And I only know that what I feel is different. There are layers I had never thought feasible.” 

“Like?” 

The words had been in her head for some time. Saying them felt like a declaration, something final. “The love I feel for both is coated with sadness.” Something had clicked in her mind. She wanted to say more. And she did. “I feel saddened that they love me too. I wish they didn’t.”

There was silence. She could feel their surprise, their confusion, and then a small wave of anger. 

“You’re not taking that away from them.” Mina’s voice was still quiet, but there was an underlying gravity to it. Her emotions were the shout, her voice the message. 

“That steps over so many lines.” Chaeyoung’s voice was calmer. She was in disbelief. 

They had misunderstood. “I’m not going to take it away,” Dahyun said. “Never.” 

“But that’s been done before, right? Your parents took theirs out of themselves. Are you going to do that to yourself?”

“I don’t know.” Shame came over her. She had thought about taking their love away. Ripping out her own. But it wouldn’t bring anything. Yet she had still considered it. “But I will never take good emotions away from someone. Love and happiness. They strengthen you, protect you in ways even sadness cannot.” That was already enough information on that. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I know how it feels.” Those words shouldn’t have been said. She lowered her head. “I’m sorry you thought I would take that away, but I won’t. Ever.” 

Only a second passed until an arm went around her shoulder and hands took hold of her own. 

“Did they take that away from you?” Mina asked softly. All of the anger had gone, now replaced by the sadness that was so close to pity. It wasn’t pity, but it still reminded her of it. 

“I gave it up.” 

Another wave of silence. It wasn’t like the one she knew in the forest. It was one that anticipated. One filled with confusion at whatever wasn’t said. 

Then Chaeyoung broke the silence. “You said you did everything you could for Teresa at the time.”

Dahyun flinched at the name, but nodded. Her head sank further. What would they think of that?

“You gave her love and happiness," Mina said. "Yours.” 

“Everything,” she muttered. “Before and after she was lost. She did not get sadness, grief, or anger, rather the relief I had when I finally felt something again. And the rest of the positive.” 

The two grips on her tightened. 

“When you don’t have that,” Dahyun said. “You know you’re missing something. I remember my family, my friends, I can relive pieces of our conversations, our laughter, but I cannot feel the warmth of those memories.” The faces of those people came to mind. A heaviness sank down onto her. “They took my grief as well. The only thing I feel for the people I loved is the sadness that I don’t feel anything for them.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mina said. 

Chaeyoung repeated it. They both hugged her. Tightly. Not so that she couldn’t breathe, but she still found the task difficult. 

“You’re going to hurt them,” Mina sighed, “you’re going to hurt all of us.” 

The words gouged holes in Dahyun, despite being confirmations of what she already knew. 

“I get it, Dahyun, I do.” Another sigh. “But what do you want us to tell you? That you’re allowed to go? That Sana and Momo might get over it? The first is true, but the other one, I can’t tell you.” 

Her heart sank further. 

“I can tell you they’ll understand. Not that they’ll like it, none of us do, but we understand why you want to go.” 

Dahyun couldn’t even correct her that she needed to go. She didn’t want to go, but perhaps that was what the girls needed to believe. 

“Have you told them you love them?” Mina let her go. She looked her directly in the eyes. Dahyun almost felt shy under that look. 

“I won’t.” It wasn’t only because she didn’t know how or when to say it properly, but because it would make things far too real if she said it to them. An admission of one’s emotions sometimes made them stronger. At least that was how it sometimes was with pain. 

“You won’t?” Chaeyoung asked. “Or you can’t?”

“Won’t it be harder to let someone go if you knew they returned your feelings? I’m leaving. One doesn’t admit to loving someone only to leave them.”

“It’s not the norm.” Mina nodded. “With two people even less so, but believe me when I say it, the fact that you didn’t say anything when you could have. That will stick with you.” Her other hand went to Chaeyoung’s. “I didn’t tell Chaeng I loved her until a century after I knew I did. I didn’t think she felt the same. We were just in the same coven, trusting each other with our lives and all our secrets. I was sure she thought we were all family. Nothing else.” Her eyes softened. “That was a century I’ll never get back. A century when I could have shown my feelings and not hidden that away.” The vampire’s gaze turned to her, dark blue encircling the space in front of her. “Do you really want to leave those words unspoken?”

If it would make leaving easier. “Yes.” And the time she missed wouldn't be years, but weeks, perhaps even days. 

Both Chaeyoung and Mina’s surprise bloomed. They were both disappointed, but they did not ask her further questions. 

“But you do love them, the different kind of love.” Chaeyoung held her gaze, a surprising intensity within them. “Can you say that out loud, right now?”

“Is this really a thing that must be done?” Dahyun couldn’t say if it was or wasn’t. She hadn’t thought about it.

“Must is the wrong word,” Mina’s eyes flickered to Chaeyoung, “and it'd be better if you said this to them, but we can’t force you to do that.” 

It wouldn’t be a terrible thing to say it now, would it? They wouldn’t tell them. She hoped not at least. “I love them.” 

She’d been wrong. She was still sure she was leaving. She was going to leave. And yet, her body felt heavier, her eyes burned even more, and breathing was difficult. Those words had meant something when said out loud. 


	16. The moon

Dinner was weird, to say the least. Sana couldn’t miss the glances Mina and Chaeyoung kept shooting Dahyun. They were trying to hide it, but little could be hidden within their coven, especially when it came Chaeyoung. It had taken the longest time to read Jihyo. She hid everything behind a front of strength. It took a lot of strength to achieve that, but everyone had their limits. They’d needed years to learn those of their leader, but they had, and it had made them all stronger for it. 

She looked back at Dahyun. They had all seen her break down, but Sana was sure they hadn’t seen her limits. Sana didn’t know how far was too far. Had that line already been passed and returned to in the past years? Or was the fairy very close to crossing it? She didn’t know enough about Dahyun to be able to guess at that answer. 

That was it. That was what made everything worse. She didn’t know what could push Dahyun away forever or what could lead to her staying. She also didn't know what could lead to her coming back. Was it Sana's fault? Had she pushed her away these past weeks? Had Sana wasted her time building a dam when she could've just let her emotions wash over her? She didn’t know. That might have been the worst part. 

The fairy remained quiet for much of the time. The eight crystals of Dahyun's sadness had been placed underneath a white cloth on the kitchen counter. It was something Sana was pretty sure had been done by the girl herself. On her way back from Jennie’s, she’d met with all the girls except for Momo, Mina, and Chaeyoung. They all were in favour of letting Dahyun do it, just as long as it wouldn’t hurt her. 

Watching her, Sana saw the change. Not only was she less calm, less grounded, but she was also more distant. The smiles were slower to appear, but her questions were quicker. It wasn’t the side of Dahyun she was used to. 

“In the next few days, I will be leaving the house more often,” the fairy said. “There are potions I have to brew, as well as some other preparations.”

“When do you leave?” Momo asked. She was already prepared for it.

There was a pang in Sana's chest at that. Guilt was behind Momo's words. No matter what Sana, the other girls, or even Dahyun told her, it hadn’t lessened her feelings of responsibility. 

“By the end of this week the latest.” Dahyun's eyes flickered towards the kitchen. 

Jihyo looked between all of them. Then she spoke. “If it’s really what you want, you can give us that protection.” 

She smiled slightly. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what you want and what you feel comfortable tying yourselves to, namely my magic.”

A short pause. 

“You can give it to us,” Nayeon said. “As long as it doesn’t hurt you, or drain you, or anything like that.” 

“It won’t.”

Sana couldn’t help but look at her then. The certainty in her voice and her expression made her believe her. Yet there had been a change since the forest, a change since she took out the sadness. Before her thoughts could reach any conclusion, Dahyun kept talking. 

“But what is this that I heard about a party?” she asked. “Irene asked if I was going, but I don’t know what parties are like in this world.”

The mention of Irene still tugged at Sana, but she pushed that jealousy down. It was the last thing she should've been worrying about. 

“In this world?” Jeongyeon repeated. “As in you partied?”

A wider smile. It actually reached her eyes. “Of course. I told Momo about this. Whenever there was a discovery or notable progress made, or anything else, we would celebrate.” 

“How?” Chaeyoung asked. “With music and dancing?”

“Partially,” Dahyun nodded, “these were the times when we were all together, nobody off in the other world, or as much as we could be.” Her eyes fell to the table. “We looked for the best foods to make a feast, hunting and gathering as much as we could.” 

Sana felt a lightness settling over her. This was what she wanted the next days to be filled with: exchanges about each others' worlds. If she could do anything with the time they still had left, she'd learn more about who Dahyun was and her life from before. 

“Did you cook?” Jihyo asked.

“Not many of my clan did,” she laughed slightly, “though there were some elementals who utilised their abilities to create interesting meals, even the cold ones as you sometimes have them. That cream stuff.” A furrow in her brow appeared. “Or was it called snow cream?”

“Ice cream,” Sana corrected, unable to hide her smile. “So you can’t cook?”

“Not well.” A shake of her head. “As for that party, when is it?”

“Friday,” Nayeon replied. “Do you think you can stay until then?” 

“We’ll show you what a party here looks like!” Chaeyoung grinned. 

The fairy didn’t respond immediately. Sana’s chest tightened. Was she going to leave before the week ended? It was too soon. 

“I’ll go,” Dahyun said. “Though I will leave right after.” 

They nodded, small smiles on each of their faces, but Sana saw the disappointment in each. Her words were so final. They tugged at Sana’s heart in ways she hated, like each part of it was attached to an elastic. Some time soon, those strings would snap. What would happen then? 

The conversation moved towards what film they’d watch. They agreed that Dahyun needed to watch Harry Potter, especially after she’d read the first book. 

During the movie, the fairy didn’t wear that adorable frown. She just watched the characters on the screen, concentrated, but not like before. Was this her way of separating herself from them? Of pushing them away while still being with them? Sana didn’t want that. She wanted Dahyun to feel at home in the time that they still had left with her. 

When they all went to bed or out on patrol, Sana lay awake in bed. She’d done what Momo had said and broken up with Jennie. It'd been hard, because the girl had immediately assumed it was because Sana had found someone else. It both was and it wasn’t. Telling the truth would've been impossible, because she’d have to explain what it meant to have finally found someone outside of her coven who still understood how that worked. Someone who understood _Sana_ the way Dahyun did. Explaining that wouldn’t have worked and would definitely have made the girl feel worse. She hadn't wanted that either. 

She sat up. Sleep wouldn’t be coming to her. Not easily. She also didn’t want to. 

Instead, she got out of bed, left her room, and crept down the hall. As she did, she listened for a distinct heartbeat. It was faster than normal, but even that was less than the average human. 

Sana took a deep breath. Then she knocked on the door, wishing desperately that there’d be a response. 

“Yes?” The voice sounded awake. 

She opened the door. It was cold, but there was no wave of sadness that met her. Dahyun sat by an open window, looking up at the sky. Her gaze was sombre, but her back straight. 

“Not sleeping?” 

“I’m not tired."

“Do fairies get colds?” Sana took the blanket from the bed and came over. She tapped her arm with her foot. “You’re freezing.” When she draped the blanket over the girl’s shoulders, Dahyun looked up at her. The moon reflected off light blue eyes. Sana found herself staring. 

“It’s difficult to get cold. We have a tolerance for it. Not naturally, but still,” she said. “Do vampires get cold?” She opened her arms, the edges of be blanket held between her fingers. An invitation.

A part of Sana wasn’t sure if she should accept, but the other wanted to go to her. She sat down on the floor and Dahyun wrapped her arms around her. It felt weird to be held like this. A good weird, but still not what she was used to. 

“Sometimes, but we don’t get sick.” 

“We sometimes do, but that requires extreme conditions.” Her eyes were brown now. When she looked at Sana, they were still bright. “Why’d you come? Nightmare?” Her brow furrowed. “I have been elsewhere in the emotional world, so I didn’t feel it. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Sana shook her head, “no nightmare, but don’t say you’re sorry.” And if she’d had a nightmare, she was sure Dahyun would try to take the fear again. That would lead to her being cold again, afraid again. Sana didn’t want that. 

She nodded, her gaze going to the sky again. It was both thoughtful and empty. There was an ache in Sana’s chest just looking at it. 

She wrapped her arms around the Dahyun’s waist. “What are you thinking about?” 

“The night sky is never dark for us.” A moment passed. “Many people look up at it, directing emotions of despair, confusion, but also wonder at it.” Another moment. “Sometimes, when you direct your emotion at something, or feel a certain way in a certain place, or for a specific thing, some of your emotion is transferred over. After many millennia, the sky is ablaze.” Her eyes went to Sana’s. They weren't brown anymore. There were flickers of colour swirling in them. In the blue, she picked out grey, green, and gold. “Want to see?”

“You can show a person that?” She felt her stomach flutter with anticipation. She hadn’t realised how much she wanted to see the world through her eyes. There was another thing that contributed to her excitement. Dahyun’s gaze held more warmth to it now. 

“You need a certain mental strength to stomach it, but immortality does lend itself to that.” 

Sana considered those words. “Because of sadness?”

Dahyun's brow rose. “Why do you say that?” She was staring at her. 

“You said it protected your mind and that immortals have a specific sadness. Does it help you not be overwhelmed?”

Was that why Teresa had not survived captivity, but Dahyun had? Fear definitely overwhelmed, but anger could as well. Sana thought better than to voice her thoughts.

“In a way.” A bright smile grew on her face. Her eyes turned a deep green with lighter flickers of something within them. “I’ll show you.” One hand went to Sana’s. “Focus on the sky.” The words were coming slower now, not rushed. Had this night served as a recovery for her? 

There was a feeling of warmth, then cold. Sana didn’t even need to blink, but the world changed in front of her. The dark blue sky became a sea of different colours, most of them faded, almost pastel, but so plentiful that they still created a tapestry above them. 

Whenever she focused on one colour, she felt that emotion. She received the awe of the sky or the terror of the nothingness of space. 

Most of it was tranquility, which had somehow embedded itself above them, creating great swathes of light blue. It gave her a deep sense of calm. It felt so natural, as though this was how she was supposed to be. She was also reminded of Dahyun, just as she had been when she’d felt her core emotion of sadness. 

“You see this every night?” Her voice sounded distant to her. Then she looked away from the sky and at Dahyun. Sana could see her through the colours, but it was like her real face was smoke. The ever-changing shades of blue were her real face. Looking at her now, Sana felt what she did when she breathed in the scent of mountain air and forests, but ten times as strong. There were nuances to it, a sense of calm like the one you have when you just wake up, but also a feeling of deep sadness when you lose something—what’s leftover when the grief passes. 

“Almost,” Dahyun said. Just hearing the word made her dizzy. 

The colours faded. Sana didn’t want them to, but when her vision cleared, her mind wasn’t spinning anymore. She felt exhausted.

“I told you to focus on the sky.” A light smile appeared. “Here, this might help.” Yellow appeared in her eyes. Sana's heart rate increased and her thoughts begin to buzz. Her body became filled with warmth, like she'd just stepped into a bath. 

“Excitement?” She couldn’t stop her own smile. It was like knowing you were about to find out or see something great. 

Dahyun nodded. The blue in her eyes was lightening.

“Doesn’t it get overwhelming?” The physical world looked bland in comparison, but she was so comfortable here. Looking at the emotions was like staring at a screen. A headache was starting. 

“In a group, one surrounded by many other people, yes.” Dahyun looked back up at the sky. The colours Sana had just seen were reflected in the fairy’s eyes. “When I was little, I frequently got overwhelmed, as everyone was cloaked in an ever-changing spectrum, while everywhere I looked had some set of emotions bound with it.” She blinked. “A consequence of living beings having passed through for millions of years.”

“Why go to school then? Wasn’t that too much?”

“I wanted to learn,” she said. “The last time I was among humans, I had to take an extensive break, because I felt what you were just feeling. It nearly convinced me that we were not a people meant to be among others.” A smile, but her eyes were dark. “Sometimes I think we were all meant to have one oversaturated experience to appreciate the beauty of our isolation more.”

“How is it in the house?” It wasn’t hard to tell that Dahyun preferred being outdoors. Sana wondered why she stayed inside. Especially tonight. 

“Sometimes difficult.” A pause. “Emotions do not spread as they do outside.”

“It’s more concentrated?”

The fairy looked at her, her gaze actually unreadable. Except for her eyes. Sana didn’t know why she hadn’t hidden behind brown this time. She recognised the combination of emotions within them: awe. 

“What?” Sana’s face was warming up. Not only was the stare unexpected, but the literal wonder in her eyes caught her off guard. 

“You understand all of this.” Dahyun gestured at the sky before she pulled Sana closer. “It’s incredible.” 

Now she was really blushing. “You’re just flattering me.” 

“Not just,” Dahyun smiled, “it took me years to reach that level of understanding.” A short laugh. “You might think I’m slow when it comes to social cues, but it’s really because it takes me a large amount of time to understand anything.” 

“Because you have to understand it fully,” Sana said. “You don’t stop at a surface-level explanation. Usually.” 

“Are you going to tell me I take things too seriously?” 

“No.” She loved that about her. 

The thought made her pause. 

“Everything alright?” Dahyun’s hands squeezed her arms. 

Sana turned her head to look at her better. The moonlight had made her skin a silvery-white. “Why are you hiding your scars, but not your eyes?”

She blinked once. Twice. “The eyes were something I thought shouldn’t be hidden from you. My skin," she paused—hesitated. "They are unnecessary reminders.” 

“Does it hurt to remember?” Sana wasn't sure if she should ask that. Was she just reminding Dahyun of something she didn’t want to remember? Sana had memories of her own like that. They all did.

“Sometimes.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t remember much of it. Some may return in my dreams, or when there are specific sights or sounds.” 

“You don’t have to tell me.” 

Dahyun nodded. “Thank you.”

That meant ‘not much’ was too much. Information that she wouldn’t want to share, either because reliving it would be painful or because Dahyun didn’t want her to know those parts of her life. A part of Sana told her this wasn’t the right way to approach things, but the other considered what she’d lived through herself. Would she ever tell Dahyun the full details of the attack on her coven? Most likely not. 

It wasn’t because she didn’t want her knowing about that pivotal point in Sana’s life, but because it had been shamelessly brutal. Telling it would bring pain to both of them, because a core trait— ability too—of Dahyun’s was empathy. If Sana went through that pain again, the fairy would feel it too, with or without magic. 

Dahyun didn’t break the silence, but she pulled Sana even closer. She let her head fall on the girl’s shoulder. It was a vulnerable position. She didn’t mind. She liked the feeling of being held, of being so close to someone she cared about. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The fairy’s voice was soft. “The moon.”

Sana froze. “You think so?” She looked up at her and not the moon.

“Look at it. Sometimes it’s the greatest appeal for me when I’m not in the emotional world. It's the brightest object up there, at least when it comes to our perception. I still cannot believe that humans have managed to step foot on it. It's wonderful." A broad grin. 

Her muscles relaxed. Of course the fairy wouldn't know what that meant. Was she disappointed or relieved? Both. 

“You don’t think so?” Dahyun asked. 

“Think what?”

“That the moon is more beautiful than the stars? Perhaps there’s something I’m missing up there. I’ve seen that humans have found patterns in the stars. If I knew those, perhaps they’d be as beautiful as the dark sky or the moon.”

“The stars are pretty, yeah,” Sana said. “But you’re right. The moon is beautiful tonight.” She tightened the grip she had on Dahyun. The other girl did the same. 

Something had changed. The warmth in her chest—i t'd grown, as if she was holding that purple crystal again. 

_____

“Dahyun, hey, can I talk to you?” Jennie asked. Her eyes were rimmed with shadows. Sadness radiated from her. It was a combination of emotions Dahyun had seen once or twice before. Heartbreak. 

It was lunchtime. “Of course.” Dahyun wasn’t quite as hungry as she’d thought. “Library?”

The girl smiled slightly and nodded. 

As they walked, Dahyun noticed the curiosity around them spiking. She heard whispers. 

“Another one going after her?”

“Or is it a power play?” 

She tuned them out. This wasn’t anything of great note. At least she hoped it wasn’t. Jennie was in pain. That was what was important. 

“Were you sick last week?” 

Dahyun nodded. “Yes.” If bad blood counted as sickness, then that was no lie. 

They sat down in one of the rooms where you work with others. Dahyun had never been in it. 

“I’m gonna try not to be a bitch about it, but I have to ask,” she started. “Did Sana tell you anything about the breakup?”

Breakup. What was that word again? Break up. Heartbreak. Breaking up of a relationship?

She soon realised she had been silent for too long. Jennie’s face crumpled. Her sadness surged, as well as the emotions Dahyun recognised as jealousy. She felt guilty that some of those emotions were directed at her. 

“I knew it.” 

“You misunderstand,” Dahyun said quickly. “I didn’t know you break—broke up.” She tried to increase the calm in the room. 

It seemed to work. The girl relaxed, but the sadness did not fade from her face. 

“What did she tell you?” Dahyun asked. This didn’t quite seem to be her business, but she found herself wanting to know. How could this girl be so hurt by such a thing? They had been together a few weeks? Even in the realm of a human life, that was not long. 

Jennie waved an arm, sighing. “That I’m a great girl, she’s just not ready for the commitment, I don’t deserve this. The usual probably.” Her head fell back. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“Why say that?” Dahyun asked. At Jennie’s expression, she saw it was exactly the wrong thing to say. 

“You’re kidding, right?” Her voice was very sharp. “You’d have to be an idiot not to know what it means to be with Sana.” She sighed again. “I’m an idiot too in that case.” 

She didn’t respond. There was more that the girl wanted to say. She would let her say it. 

“My friends all told me I was hopeless thinking that I had a chance with her, but when you’re with her, she makes you feel special. Really special.” A sigh. “Until you’re not.” 

“What do you mean?"

Jennie gave her a look. Dahyun really was starting to feel like a fool, but that was how things were. Humans didn’t understand her own lack of understanding, and there would be no excuse for it. Once she left, that fact would not matter, but in this moment, it did. 

“I might as well do my good deed for the day now,” she began, “but don’t let her big smiles fool you. She’s hurt a lot of people. You’re probably next on that long list.” 

That made her smile. “Don’t be so sure.” 

“You chose Momo?” Jennie shrugged. “She’ll let you down easy. Rosé knows all about that.” 

Dahyun didn’t know how to respond. If she was to defend the two, she would need to actually understand what Jennie was attacking them for. She didn’t, but she also couldn’t remain silent. 

“They aren’t cruel,” Dahyun said. “Was any part of your relationship under the guise that it would be long-term?”

Jennie's irritation rose, but so did her sadness. Dahyun felt even worse for what she said.

“Fine, let them break your heart. Doesn't make a difference for me.” Jennie stood and left the room. 

She felt stunned. Were normal conversations always supposed to escalate so quickly? And end so abruptly?

_____

Dahyun had been acting normally through Chemistry, but she kept looking Sana’s way, an unspoken question in her eyes. It didn’t make her feel uncomfortable, but it made her think back on the last few weeks. Specifically, she thought of her mistakes. 

Sana had heard the conversation with Jennie. It set her on edge. She thought she’d done something better when she broke up with Jennie, but instead it had showed her exactly what she’d been doing wrong. Now she’d wasted time. All for nothing. The only thing that had come out of it was disappointment and pain for Jennie. 

Then class ended. She started packing. With a small delay, so did Dahyun. 

“Are we walking back together?” Dahyun asked softly. 

Sana glanced at her. The fairy was giving her that same gaze. There wasn’t any of that weird emptiness from yesterday, just curiosity. If they weren’t brown, they would have probably been gold. If Sana remembered that right. 

“Yep.” She gave her a smile. 

They walked out of the classroom. Not talking. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but Sana wanted to break out of it. When they got out of the school, Dahyun did it for her. 

“Jennie told me about,” a pause, “the two of you.” 

“I know,” Sana replied. 

“You listened?” 

Her face warmed. “Yes.” 

“No need to feel embarrassed,” Dahyun said. “When your relationship began, I admit that I saw what the respective feelings were.”

They walked in silence. Again. The words sunk in.

“Dahyun," she chewed on her lip, "you want to ask me something, right?” 

Another nod. “But I don’t know how to phrase it.” 

What was she thinking? That she was like the rest? That Sana just wanted to date her only to drop her after a few weeks? 

“I do not understand much of this at all, despite what you’ve taught me." Dahyun gave her a small smile. "But from what I have seen, and you may correct me whenever, would it not be better if you fully committed to your relationships?” 

What could Sana say to that? It was true that she was never committed, but how do you explain casual dating to someone who didn’t even know what dating was?

“I have seen the beginnings of love in those you have been with. When you begin a relationship, you allow those feelings to strengthen for them, but not for yourself. I wonder if it is because you do not let them or just because you have no interest in them.”

“I was interested in some.”  Dahyun’s obliviousness was making this so much harder.

The fairy must have sensed her confusion. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you must tell me.” Dahyun turned towards the forest. “I’m sorry if I am pushing you to anything.” Then she began to walk. 

Sana caught her hand, trying not to pull too hard on it. “It’s okay to talk to me about this.” Was she making a mistake? What happened when Dahyun fully understood what Sana had done? Would she think she was worse for it? Was Sana worse for it? “You want to know why I’d be with Jennie if I wasn’t interested, right?”

“Did you hope you’d develop feelings for her instead?” 

Sana shook her head. “No.” A pause. “I wanted a distraction.” Just saying it made her feel even more terrible. 

“So you can be distracted through a relationship?” Her brow rose. “As a redirection of your romantic attention? Your desire?”

Sana didn’t want it to happen, but she blushed. Dahyun could talk so casually about this stuff. It could be adorable at times. Not this time. 

“But why would you want to be distracted? Why not just try and develop feelings?”

“It doesn’t usually work like that.” Sana might have told her about arranged marriages, but this wasn't the time for that. “What I did wasn’t okay.”

“No.” Her eyes flickered between each of Sana’s, searching them. “But I don’t believe that you set out to hurt anyone when you begin your relationships.” She chewed on her lower lip, her gaze returning to the forest. “I just wonder why you would perpetuate such a cycle if you do not intend to find love.” 

Sana couldn’t read that look. Was it disappointment? Or just Dahyun’s desire to know the _why_ behind everything?

“Or do you hope to find it?" Dahyun asked. "The impression I have gotten is that it just happens, so are you able to tell when love cannot happen?”

“You're not going to like what I have to say,” she said. “But I don’t know the answer to that.” 

Her eyes softened. “Right, sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Was she going to say it? Dahyun already knew, but did she actually understand? “But I do know why I avoided my feelings for you.” 

The fairy looked up, but there was dread in her eyes. 

“You don’t have to say it. I understand why you did.” The smile she gave her was filled with sadness.

“Why're you saying that?” 

“The uncertainty you always feel around me. You’re afraid when you’re around me. It is no way to live, let alone love.” Dahyun closed her eyes. “I am sorry I’ve made you feel that way.” Then the fairy straightened, her expression reconstructing itself into something just above emotionless. “We shouldn’t keep talking about this.” 

Sana tightened the grip she had on the fairy’s hand. She was going to turn away again. “Why?”

“Every word we devote to this subject, all of it will lead to your awareness growing. I don’t want you to be hurt even more.” She squeezed her hand. “Don’t think about this further. Maybe go and—” The flow of words cut off. The corners of her mouth tilted downwards. 

“What, distract myself again? That didn’t help the first time I did it, and it won’t help now.” 

“Don’t say that. What if the next person you find is someone for whom you can truly develop feelings?" There was an edge of desperation in her voice now. Dahyun didn't want Sana to continue. 

Was Sana going to continue? She had to. It was the weirdest decision to make. Dahyun already knew what Sana felt for her, but did she understand it? Probably not. Or if she did, she didn't want to hear it. But why?

Sana took that leap. “Dahyun, that person was you.” 

She looked stricken. “It shouldn’t be.” 

“You said it yourself, it just happens,” she said. “And it happened.” 

Dahyun shook her head again. “You didn’t hear what I said, did you? Facing such feelings will only strengthen them.”

“And pretending they don’t exist is better?” Sana asked. “You’re saying that once you leave I should pretend I never met you? Pretend that you aren’t important to me?” The words felt dangerous to say, but the way they were being said almost felt casual. Almost. 

Tears had begun to well up in her eyes. “It would be better, yes.” 

She couldn’t actually think that? The thought made something in Sana crack. 

“Again, it doesn’t work like that. Your people might be able to separate from their feelings, but we can’t, and we shouldn’t be able to.” She lifted her hands to the fairy’s face, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. “You showed me what it felt like to be exposed. You showed me that was okay even before I realised that I fell in love with you.”

Sana’s hands were pushed away in that moment. Her chest tightened when she realised what she’d just said. 

Dahyun had clasped her hands together. She wasn’t looking at her. 

“Loving me is not safe, Sana," she said. "I’m leaving soon and I don’t think I’ll ever come back. You just made your feelings for me strengthen. I felt it.” Her eyes closed again. “And that will only lead to you hurting more.”

“Hey, look at me.” 

Dahyun opened her eyes, but didn’t look at her. The colour had changed. One eye was purple, but the other was dark blue. “Sana, you have to turn away from this. From me.”

“You know I already tried that.” She took a step closer. “And I know you’re leaving. I don’t want you to, but I know you will.” _And that’ll be okay. It just isn’t right now_ , she added in her head. “But you can’t expect me to be able to walk away from this like nothing happened.” A terrible thought crossed her mind. “Are you going to?” Would there be a block of purple somewhere? Would that block be destroyed?

To her relief, Dahyun shook her head. “Never.” 

“Then why am I allowed to? What makes my pain different from yours?” 

“You will love again.” Dahyun met her gaze and Sana was staring into pools of love and sadness. “My wish is that you wouldn’t let your fear of loss stop you from letting your feelings flourish. Because they will not be like me. They will not need to leave you despite loving you. There might be loss on either side, but that won’t be like this.” A hand went to her cheek. “That is why you must let yourself love a human just as well as you might another immortal. They know just as well as we do that loss in love is a constant. So you cannot let fear of that loss be the reason you do not face love.”

Then she took her hand away. Sana was frozen in place. Too many words were going through her mind. Too many thoughts too. 

“There are some potions I need to brew today,” Dahyun said. “But I will be coming back. Hopefully tonight.” A wider smile appeared. Then she walked off deeper into the forest. 


	17. Time

When Sana came back from the forest, her face was unreadable, but it was clear that she was in pain. Jihyo had come back shortly before, her face pinched with worry. She’d immediately set about to preparing dinner, namely Sana’s favourite dishes. 

“Don’t ask her about anything,” Jihyo had said as she chopped the vegetables. Clearly, she knew a bit more about what had just happened. 

It wasn’t said, but Momo knew: Dahyun wasn’t going to have dinner with them today. 

Sana sat now on the sofa, hugging her knees. The mask was beginning to crack. What was underneath was painful to see. 

Nayeon and Momo exchanged looks. They went to either side of the girl, wrapping their arms around her. Sana leaned her head on Momo’s shoulder. 

They didn’t say anything, just listened to Mina and Jeongyeon debating what dessert to make. Mina wanted the European dish of Kaiserschmarrn—shredded pancakes, while Jeongyeon just wanted cake. They ended up doing both when Tzuyu said she hadn’t been there when they had the pancakes. That had been a trip they'd had a few years ago. 

Momo didn’t know what to say. Sana was crying silently in her arms, but she knew that making her talk about it would just make things worse. She had heard the conversation yesterday, heard the careful confession when the moon had become the subject. She’d been so glad that Sana was opening up to Dahyun, but what had happened this time? Did it have something to do with what Jennie had said? As bad as some things could get with Sana’s relationships, Momo didn’t think that Dahyun would push Sana away because of that. Dahyun was pushing all of them away, but her reasons weren’t based on dating habits or messy breakups. 

“Want something to drink?” Nayeon asked. 

Sana smiled slightly. Then she nodded. 

In a matter of seconds, Chaeyoung was in front of them, three blood bags in hand. 

“If you spill on my sofa, I get movie rights.” 

Sana chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes glowed a soft purple as she drank. Then she closed them. “Do you think our eyes are connected to emotions?” Another chuckle, but it lacked any mirth. “I would ask her, but,” she trailed off. Her nose scrunched up. Momo tightened her grip on her. “She didn’t want me to tell her I love her.” 

In any other circumstance, on any other day, those three words would've been the best thing Momo had ever heard. They’d all wondered when Sana would finally find someone she loved. That time was now, but it was coming to an end. That fact hurt Momo as much as Dahyun leaving did. It made her pause too. Why didn’t she feel jealous about that? 

No one said anything. When Momo looked at Mina and Chaeyoung, they were doing that thing where they silently communicate with each other. Both wore frowns. 

Nayeon had also picked up on it. “What is it?”

The two looked conflicted. 

“You talked to her about this?” Sana said. She didn't sound suspicious, only tired. 

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung pursed her lips, “when you were all at school. She said she couldn’t say what she told us to you.”

“But not that you couldn’t tell us,” Nayeon replied. 

Mina nodded. “Whatever happens, she’s never going to take any of our emotions. Especially not the positive ones. I think that’s her rule.” 

“But she’ll take your fear,” Sana retorted. “Even if it hurts.”

Their old leader spoke slowly, but with an added weight to her words. “This isn’t something you should ask her about, or be really careful with it. It was painful enough for her to even mention it.” Mina paused. “Remember when Dahyun told us she tried to make Teresa strong enough to escape?”

How could Momo forget? When she thought of that day, she saw Dahyun’s pain etched across every inch of her face. She remembered how it had filled her eyes. They'd been a deep blue and black. Those years in captivity had broken her. If she had put herself back together or not, Momo didn’t know. She didn’t know, because she had no idea what Dahyun was like before captivity. None of them did.

Mina didn’t continue. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes held a familiar strain. 

Chaeyoung took over, but not before she laced their fingers together. “She said she gave up her emotions to do that. Including her love and happiness.” 

Momo felt Sana stiffen. Her own chest ached. 

_At the very least, they kept familial love, so they were never truly empty._

Dahyun had said that when she’d talked about her parents and how they’d taken out their love for each other. To study it. Momo had been scared at the time that Dahyun would do the same. Now they knew she had and still would, but not for a research project. She’d do it to save another. She'd saved Teresa. And if she needed to, she'd do the same for them. 

“The way she said it felt,” Mina took a deep breath, “remembering her family is warped. She knows she loved them, but she,” a tear rolled down her cheek, “she doesn’t feel that way.”

“The witch had happiness on her,” Sana said. “She made me destroy it.” A small gasp. “She could've taken it back. Why didn’t she take it back?” The girl pulled her knees closer to her. Guilt took over her features. 

Dahyun had said she’d tell them why she'd destroyed those emotions. But she'd been in so much pain afterwards that they’d all forgotten about it. 

“Maybe she thought they were tracking it?” Chaeyoung suggested. “If she took it, they might always be able to find her.” 

“Or it was poisoned,” Momo said. “She talked about that one fairy poisoning her with fear. It could've been the same thing here. It wasn’t something she’d risk.” Not even for the chance of feeling that happiness and love again. That was why Dahyun was leaving. Even if she was happy here, even if she loved them as much as they did her, she wouldn’t risk their safety to keep that love. Even if it hurt them. Even if it hurt her. It scared Momo how much Dahyun was willing to sacrifice. How far she’d go.

“But how does that happen?” Nayeon asked. “I don’t get it. She said they’d taken her emotions, but she still had love and happiness to give to Teresa afterwards. Are those emotions that can’t be taken away?” 

“Maybe they’re only given or taken by the person who felt them,” Tzuyu said. “Like her sadness where she’s the only one who can take it away. I’m sure Teresa wouldn’t have wanted Dahyun to give it up, but she wasn’t capable of giving it back when she got them. She said they drained their emotions again, and that time they got those emotions. Maybe they figured something out in that time.” 

“But she killed them,” Jeongyeon frowned, “how did they get the rest? Wouldn’t she have taken the emotions back? I know she takes them out a lot, but I don’t think she would've left them there at the time.” 

“Unless she couldn’t have.” The youngest looked up to the ceiling, her brow furrowed. “She said she killed them all, but she’s still running. What if the rest were coming at that time? What if,” she trailed off. “I need to check something.” With that, Tzuyu left the room. 

Momo was tempted to go after her, but the scene reminded her so much of Dahyun that she didn’t. Tzuyu loved them as much as they did her, but she was like Mina in that she also valued her time alone. 

Sana didn’t say anything more after that. Neither did the rest. It was taken as a cue to continue with what they were doing. Except for Nayeon and Momo. They stayed where they were. Momo wanted to say something, but she was pretty sure Sana was at her limit. Nayeon didn't say anything either. 

The girl between them had closed her eyes. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything, huh?” 

“Why do you think that?” Nayeon asked. Her eyes flickered to Momo’s, a silent question in them. 

Momo shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to address it. She also didn’t feel the need to talk about it. Even though they needed to have that conversation, it wasn't the right time. Not when Sana was in this state. 

Sana took a deep breath and let it out. The grip she had on her legs relaxed. “She’s leaving. Shouldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut? She did say it'd hurt more when you said it out loud.” Another breath. “And she was right.” 

“You would have regretted it for a long time.” Momo said. Then she looked down at her. “Unless you do now?”

The response was immediate. “No.”

She smiled at that. “Good.” 

“You’re happy about that?” Sana looked up at her, eyes still glassy. 

Nayeon squeezed Sana’s hand, then she left to join Jeongyeon in the kitchen. It was a conversation she thought should stay between the two of them. She was probably right. 

“I’ve waited a while for you to pursue your feelings for someone,” Momo replied. “And actually admit you had them.” 

“But,” she blinked a few times, “you have feelings for her.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s like what you feel.” It was the truth. Momo cared for Dahyun, more than she wanted to, given the circumstances. She also couldn’t deny that there were deeper feelings involved, but they weren’t clear at all to her. Not even when she’d held them in her hands. Her feelings were definitely romantic, but it wasn’t something that gripped her like she had seen it take hold of Sana. It wasn’t all-encompassing.

Sana searched her eyes, disbelief in them. 

“It isn’t like what you’re feeling,” Momo said, trying to put as much sincerity as she could in those words. She wouldn’t say it aloud, especially not to Sana, but she didn’t have the time to figure out what exactly she felt. Dahyun was leaving. So even if those feelings were like Sana’s, it was too late.

_____

Dahyun was adjusting the calm of the forest. It was working perfectly. The only immortals who had passed through were the girls, and she only felt echoes of those emotions. It wasn’t draining like a net of sadness or grief could be, but it was more than enough. She still felt them now and then as the day progressed, but not strongly. That intensity would come when the girls had the sadness in their minds. 

As she sat down by the river, she took out the potions she’d made. The rituals for summoning the right ingredients had been mostly successful. She still lacked enough to make a full stock, but there were six proper draughts. These would heal her fully and quickly, so they would need to be used sparingly. The other ten were those made from human ingredients. They were rudimentary and would work slowly and inefficiently, but they’d still heal her. It would have to be enough for now. The use of the magic had drained her more than it should have. She still wasn’t fully recovered. That would take some time. Did she have that time? 

She began to place them into her bag, wrapping them in clothing scraps to protect them from sudden impacts. As she did so, one of the vampires crossed into the forest’s threshold. They had a far more pronounced sadness than the rest. Tzuyu. 

“Dahyun?”

“Here,” she called, letting her illusions fall. 

The tall vampire was in front of her in moments. She was frowning. 

“What are those?” She sat down in front of her. Then she crossed her legs, unbothered by the mud. 

“Healing potions,” Dahyun replied. She didn’t mention the varied efficiency between them. That would be an unnecessary source of worry. “One thing I realised was to make further precautions, ones which should have been done a long time ago.” She pulled up the leg of her pants, revealing the multicoloured bands around her leg. “These are sources of excitement and other warm and cool emotions. For when I’m unable to generate them.” 

“So they could help if your emotions were taken again?”

Dahyun winced at the mention of it, but she nodded. An emotional fae would be able to see them, but no other would be able to. She was also quite sure that they would not be taken away through one of their talismans. If they overwhelmed her with emotions, however, those around her leg would be useless. As for the love and happiness she had accumulated in these weeks, she hoped those could save her a second time. It was a foolish hope, but she was sure there was at least a small chance she was right. That was why green and purple were not on her legs. 

“I know this might be difficult for you to face,” Tzuyu said, “so if you can’t, you don’t have to.” Her gaze went from Dahyun’s leg to her face. “But I’m asking you this when we’re alone and not with the others, because it’s not something you’ll want to tell them—maybe not me either.” A tiny smile appeared. 

“There are things I can’t tell you.” _For your own safety,_ she added silently.

“That’s okay,” Tzuyu replied. Anticipation rose in her before she spoke. “When you finally escaped from your captors, there were still emotions there, right? In whatever they used to take your emotions away.”

The question alone brought the images of dead bodies to Dahyun’s eyes. Cold seeped into her blood. 

Tzuyu’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, that’s a trigger for you, isn’t it?” Her hands went to Dahyun’s, closing around them tightly, but not painfully. 

“It’s alright,” she said. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” A breath. Another. A third. She tugged at the calm of the forest. It helped her own come to the forefront. The cold subsided slightly. “Are you asking me if I took my emotions back?” 

“Yes.” Tzuyu let go of Dahyun’s hands. 

She saw her own shock forming. How had the vampire thought to ask that?

“But Dahyun, if you don’t want to talk about that time, don’t.” Tzuyu’s eyes began to change colour. They were dark blue.

Dahyun felt a weight grow in her throat. When Tzuyu had told her that her eyes were blue, Dahyun hadn’t expected them to be this shade. 

“Something that I think should happen, even if it’s a little late, is that I talked. I don’t do that so often.” She winked, but her gaze became serious soon after. “I know a little bit more about being chased than you might think.”

“Are you sure you want to tell me?” Dahyun asked. She’d been allowed not to relive her own memories, as should Tzuyu. Especially to someone like herself. 

She nodded. “I want to.” 

Dahyun didn’t respond, but waited for her to continue.

“Vampire hunters are more common than you might think. In Korea, it’s less so, partially because of our own,” a small pause, “efforts, and those of other covens.” A sigh. “That’s something we can tell you another day, but essentially, that wasn’t the case in the place where I came from. There was actual collaboration between the hunters and other supernaturals, including vampires. They eliminated competition around them. I was part of the competition.” 

The sadness surged, as well as anger. Dahyun recognised them as betrayal. Her eyes began to burn. 

“I lost my family twice,” Tzuyu said. “Both times I was the only survivor and even though I always wish we would have all survived, there were times in my life when I wished there had been no survivors." She looked towards the trees. "The girls offered to come with me a few times, but I always said no," a shaky smile, "I haven't gone back yet, and I'm not sure if I'd ever be able to." 

Though she knew the feeling very well, Dahyun’s chest tightened at the fact that Tzuyu carried such a burden. 

“I guess what I want to say to you is, I know that guilt. I also know revenge,” her gaze fled elsewhere, “that's also the reason I came here in the first place.” Then she reached out, taking Dahyun’s hands in hers again. “I found a new home here. A new family. I’m not gonna tell you that you have to stay, but I need to tell you that giving up parts of yourself because you don’t think you deserve them,” her gaze turned hard, “that’s not how you do it.” 

Dahyun wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Not when Tzuyu had told her of this part of her life. 

“You already went down that route. You didn’t take those emotions back, because you weren’t prepared to keep on living.”

Dahyun’s first tears fell. 

“Sorry,” she closed her eyes, “you must think I am overemotional.” 

Tzuyu let out a soft laugh. “I think that’s a given, though, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.” Her own laugh bubbled up. “That moment in time is difficult for me to think back to.” The face of a mental fae came to mind. She was sobbing, suffering the sadness Dahyun had inflicted upon her. “I took Teresa’s body from the prison and contacted those from my clan. One came, but only to tell me that there was no solution to her plight.” She took a breath. “With the witch, I realised that they still have our emotions. I should have destroyed all that was there, but I was scared of what pain it would bring about and I did not want to go back to that place.” 

“Were you the only ones to be captured like that?” 

The question made her freeze. Had they been? She was sure they were the first, but they couldn’t have been the only ones. It did not make any sense. Or perhaps it did.

“I don’t know,” Dahyun admitted. “The other fae did not say. Only informed me that I would never be able to return home. A price for the murders I committed.” 

Tzuyu gave both her hands a squeeze. “They would've killed you.” 

She shook her head. “Their goal was never to kill me.” The echo of a blade against her throat came to mind. She remembered pain. Waking and dreaming. She closed her eyes again. 

“You don’t have to tell me more,” the vampire said softly. 

“Thank you.” 

Tzuyu stood, towering above Dahyun. “Let’s go home?”

Sadness spread through to her fingers. These girls knew exactly what to say to make leaving one of the most difficult decisions of her life. 

She tried to reign the cool blue coils in. For a moment, she was tempted to say no. Perhaps it would be the right thing to do, avoiding their usual gatherings. And yet, she couldn’t do it. She wanted to enjoy all the time she still had with them. 

Instead of declining, Dahyun stood. “Let’s.” 

_____

Sana had to fight the urge to envelop Dahyun in a tight hug. All she wanted was to be close to her. Instead, she stayed where she was on the sofa. 

“What dishes have been made?” the fairy asked. Her brow rose in a playful manner, but her eyes were red. She’d been crying. 

“Have you ever heard of Kaiserschmarrn?” Tzuyu pointed at it. “It’s from Europe. The dish is pancakes, but better.” 

“Torn to pieces?” 

“Plus caramel,” Mina’s smile was radiant, “I fought Jeong for it.” 

“Not really,” Tzuyu muttered, “I was the winning vote.” 

Dahyun smiled. It almost reached her eyes. “I need to go upstairs.” She huffed as she looked at her clothes. “Another wash is in order.” 

“Your clothes are all good again.” Nayeon vanished before reappearing again, the grey cloth in her arms. “You said there was a charm on these. Will you cast it again?” 

“Thank you.” She accepted them with a brighter smile. “I will try to. The material was constructed in such a way to accommodate the spell better.” A small frown. “I don’t quite know how it does that, even after asking the elemental fae who created it. It’s something complicated about how the threads fit together and with what means they were fused.” 

“Something complicated?” Jihyo smiled. “Even for you?” 

She nodded. “It is a rare moment where one just accepts what’s given to you. Especially if it works.” 

“Did you really accept it at the time?” Sana asked. 

A smile. One that tugged at Sana's heart. “No.” She looked down at the clothes. “Thank you.” Then she went upstairs. 

Tzuyu went to the fridge and got out a blood bag. Her eyes turned a deep blue. 

“What did you have to check?” Nayeon asked. 

“Two things,” she replied before taking another sip. “First, if anyone had ever held something that made them feel a certain way. There wasn’t one until five years ago.” She shrugged. “Dunno about that, but they lost it pretty soon afterwards. The second thing was just to ask Dahyun about a few things.” Her eyes went to the ceiling again. They were also rimmed with red. It was a clear message. _Don’t ask me about it_. 

Sana got up from the sofa and went into the library. She now knew it had been around two months since Dahyun had been here. Certain days blurred together for her, but moments stood out. The moment she first stepped foot into the school, the moment she told them what she was, and so many more. For Sana, she thought about the conversation they’d had in this room. Dahyun had been looking through their books, a serene yet thoughtful look in her eyes. She’d told Sana the story of when her brother was bitten by a vampire. She’d also asked her why she was uncomfortable around her. Sana had turned the conversation around as soon as she got the slightest hint that Dahyun paid attention to the school gossip and relationships. It had backfired, and she’d learned that the girl was jealous of Sana and Momo’s relationships and liked both of them. Ironically, the fairy wasn’t affected by it, but the realisation had hit Sana hard. 

She sat down in a chair and stared up at the ceiling. Someone was listening to music. The soft jazz tones were soothing to listen to. She closed her eyes. 

Had Dahyun discovered modern music? Had she heard the music when she was last here? What was the music like among her people? So many seemingly innocent things that Sana still didn’t know. Each lost detail made the ache in her chest greater. She was already missing her. Or was she missing the parts of Dahyun she knew nothing about? The parts of her that she could know, if the fairy stayed. 

If she stayed. The chance of that happening was getting smaller with each passing moment. At least it felt like it. Maybe for Dahyun, there was no chance of her _not_ leaving. Sana couldn’t stop hoping that there was a chance. She wanted her to stay. She wanted to tell her not to go. To tell her that it might very well break her if she did. But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair for Dahyun. It didn’t take the fairy’s ability to know that this situation was hurting her too. If Sana told her she wanted her to stay, maybe it would just make that pain worse. 

_It will only lead to you hurting more_. 

She could have laughed then. Her not telling Dahyun to stay was the same reason why Dahyun didn’t want her to say she loved her. How did they get here? 

Her thoughts went to Momo. She didn’t believe for a second that Momo didn’t love Dahyun. The difference was that her friend could face the reality of the situation: Dahyun was leaving. Sana couldn’t. Each time it came to mind, she started to feel cold. It wasn’t unlike the way she felt when Dahyun’s sadness had engulfed a whole room, but she knew exactly what she was missing: time. 

“I think dinner is ready,” a voice said. It lessened the cold that was running through her body, but strengthened the ache that was the source of it. 

“Coming,” Sana replied, torn between wanting Dahyun to leave and asking her to stay. That was probably going to become a frequent dilemma these next few days. 

“You’re crying.” There were footsteps. Coming towards her. 

Sana didn’t move, didn’t even flinch when a soft cloth ran over her cheek, but she did open her eyes. Dahyun’s were brown, but her damp hair was grey streaked with blue. Dark blue. Her scars were visible. The one on her neck caught Sana’s attention. Apparently the witch had ‘helped her’ when Dahyun had been held captive. Had it been with these wounds? Ones that would have killed her. Ones that were healed only to keep Dahyun and Teresa alive for further torture? 

The cloth withdrew. “I thought it would be better to wipe them away.” An apologetic smile, but Dahyun wasn’t looking at her. “I’m sorry.” 

She was probably seeing red coming from Sana, taking it to mean she was angry at her. 

“Don’t apologise.” Sana got up from the chair. It felt weird being close to her again. Weird because she wanted to make the distance between them even smaller. Weird because she didn’t know if she should. A part of her didn’t want Dahyun push her away like she’d done earlier. Physically and figuratively. “I’m not mad because of that.” 

Her brow rose. “No?” 

Sana couldn’t believe her ears. Dahyun had sensed her anger, but hadn’t connected it to something else. 

“It’s because of these.” She probably shouldn’t have, but she raised a hand to the girl’s cheek. The skin was rough under her touch. 

Then it smoothed over. Dahyun was hiding them again. It was a strong illusion, affecting even the sense of touch. Another thing she didn’t know about: the magic of the fae.

“Don’t be angry,” Dahyun said, still not looking at her. “It has passed. Those who caused it are no more.” 

Sana saw the shame in her eyes, even without the colours. The time since she’d told them her story had hidden this part of her. The part that was still so ashamed of what she’d done. Even though she had every reason not to be. 

“Well,” she patted Sana’s hand, “dinner is ready. I can smell it.” A weak smile. The lightness to her had disappeared. It was the ghost of those years in captivity, the echoes of what had happened to her—what had been done to her. Sana started to feel cold again. 

She pulled her in for a hug. Thankfully, Dahyun didn’t pull away. “Just because we can’t change it, doesn’t mean we can’t still be angry it happened.” 

Having Dahyun in her arms. It felt good. Natural. Normal. She closed her eyes. Dahyun smelled like fruit and flowers in addition to forests and mountain air. They didn’t have shampoo that smelled like that, unless you counted Sana’s perfumes, but the fairy vehemently declined using anything past shampoo on herself. Something about the strangeness of having an entirely separate odour like that on herself. 

“Sana,” she murmured. “Dinner.”

“Not yet.” A moment like this was one she couldn’t part with quickly. It was the only thing she felt she could do right now. She didn’t know what to say to lessen Dahyun’s guilt. She wasn’t sure if she could. That was something she’d be able to figure out if she had the time—she didn’t. 

“Okay.” It was a careful movement, but Dahyun’s arms went around her waist. The scent of fruit strengthened. Sana could pick out oranges and strawberries, mangos too. “Our equivalent of a hug is something a bit different. Less proximity.” She felt her chuckle. Then she pulled away and leant up on her toes. Except for her hair, the only thing she wasn’t hiding were her ears. In the past weeks, Sana'd had to resist poking them every time they appeared. They suited her more than round ears too, because, of course, they were her natural ears.

Sana’s breath caught as their noses brushed. In the back of her mind, she chided herself for getting flustered just by this small contact. 

Then Dahyun brushed their foreheads together. It wasn’t a lingering touch, but the smile that followed made it all the more special. The scent of jasmine and roses strengthened. What emotions were the cause of that? 

“I haven’t done that in quite some time.” Dahyun was smiling.

Sana had to catch herself again. She’d leaned forward. She wanted to kiss her. Instead, she just let their foreheads rest against one another. Dahyun wasn’t pulling away, but her brow rose. Sana felt that motion. 

“Is my chin so interesting?” Dahyun asked. 

“What?” Her face was starting to warm. She was hopeless. 

“My chin. You’ve looked at it a few times.” Their foreheads were still touching. 

She could have told her the truth: you look at someone’s lips when you want to kiss them. She couldn’t. 

“It’s not your chin, Dahyun-ah.” Sana poked her cheek. 

“Then what is it?” Something was pooling in her chest. It tickled. She wanted to lean in closer again, but she resisted. Again. 

“I,” she bit her lip, “I’m looking at the fat under your chin.” She poked it. 

Dahyun chuckled. Sana felt the breath from her laughter brush against her lips. “Truly?” She could've sworn that the girl was looking at her mouth, but Dahyun had no idea what that meant. Maybe she should tell her. Or have them watch a movie where it’s somehow present and they can explain it. 

“It’s really cute.” Sana pulled away. “Time for dinner.” She went to the door. It was at times like these where she wished that the media’s idea of vampires was right. If they were, her face wouldn’t be burning, her heart wouldn’t be beating so fast. It wouldn’t be beating at all. Maybe it wouldn’t be hurting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way I've been writing this, there haven't been too many notes for this story. However, I just want to say thank you for the support you've given to this story! I love to see what you think of how the story is progressing. And no matter if you're more of a silent reader (I usually am myself) or one who comments, I thank you for coming back to this story when it updates!
> 
> Regarding the chapter, I thought it'd be good to return to a chapter looking at each character's perspective. I also really wanted a bit more backstory from both Dahyun and Tzuyu. While each of the vampires have their own experiences with being chased and losing the people they love, Tzuyu had a similar journey, both literally and emotionally, to Dahyun. She has been quite understanding of Dahyun's situation, even in previous chapters. 
> 
> As for Saidahmo, we have the 'fallout' of the last chapter and its confessions, where Sana's cards are out on the table, Dahyun's withholding hers, and Momo's a bit of a mixed bag. On the one hand, the development of Dahmo was stopped, both by Saida and the lack of time, while that same temporal shortage spurred Saida on. How do you see that developing now? 


	18. Home

Dahyun sat next to Tzuyu and Mina for dinner. The dishes that were laid out included fried rice, fried chicken, lasagne—a food she was grateful she knew—and some dish with a lot of cheese on it. 

“What is that?” She pointed at it. 

“Macaroni and cheese,” Mina said, “from America. The Northern part.”

“So you have foods from Asia, Europe, and America,” she began, “where else have you lived?”

“Once we were finally all together,” Nayeon smiled, “we tried just about everywhere, even Antarctica.”

“Which was the first time we ever saw the animals there!” Mina grinned. “Not like nowadays where the zoos hold them.” Her expression turned sombre. 

Tzuyu leaned over and, in a loud whisper, said, “Mina went through a phase where she tried to bring the penguins back to their home.” 

“We lost sight of her for several months,” Jeongyeon laughed. “It’s great she didn’t do that in the year of social media, or else she would have been known as the penguin thief.”

“It wasn’t just penguins,” the person in question grumbled. “And the transports for them were terrible. The rest of you would have all done the same.” 

“What is a zoo?” Dahyun asked. “I’ve seen penguins. Wonderful creatures. They share a lot of care between one another. Have to as well.”

“A zoo is like a museum, but for living animals.” 

Her stomach tightened. “They’re being held there?” She had seen pet cages, but Jihyo had assured her that they were let out. Now she envisioned the animals in large cages, separated from their homes. She took one deep breath. That was what she needed. Not thoughts of darkness, months of emptiness. Cold flooded her limbs. A hand closed around her own. Two. She looked up. All were looking at her, each with warm gazes, but she felt their concern, as well as their sadness. 

“So you went to the South Pole?” Sana asked gently. 

Dahyun nodded. “Yes. North as well. We explored first, but then stayed with the elves there. It was too cold, even for us. Their magic had adapted to that, but that was not the case for our own.”

“So they were snow elves?” Chaeyoung’s interest soared. 

She thought of the word in their language. “We call them _Drasa_.” Wracking her brain for the translation. “Those from the ice?” she suggested. “Though in your language, snow elves sounds better.” 

“What languages do you speak?” Momo asked. “Any others beside English, Korean, and that of the fae?”

“Those three,” she nodded, “as well as that of the _Drasa_ , _Crosa—_ wood elves, that includes the five main tribes and two of the splinter ones. They each have similar roots, but are considered different languages.” It was then that she realised her years had paid off. She also wanted to show them how wonderful the differences between them were. “And three of the _Arcsa_ —the sea elves.” 

It was quiet. She felt their surprise, saw it in their faces as well. Even awe. It warmed her face. 

“I had a lot of time to learn.” _And reason to_ , which she’d explain if they’d ask. 

Sana smiled. It was genuine. Dahyun found it beautiful. 

“No time for Japanese?” 

“Not at the time, no. Many thought I’d spent too much time with learning other languages.” 

“Not all of you learned that much?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I might have gone overboard with the languages. We only really needed to know one or two for the _Crosa,_ as well as English, but when the time came to teach them, I had the seven elvish languages, as well as the ‘main’ human one.” There were other languages that were comparable to how widespread English was, but the human languages had been the last ones she’d learned. 

Tzuyu tilted her head at that. “They didn’t learn it themselves?”

“It maximised efficiency. I went into the human world for a short amount of time to learn some of it that way.” 

“Is that why you came here then?” Sana asked. 

“Yes.” She remembered one of the few sightings of the fae. Not only did they know that her brother had been bitten by a vampire, but they had also heard of the second time she’d been there. They didn’t know that this fae had also been her. “Because it wasn’t for very long, I might have taken some of their texts to help” 

“You stole from humans?” Jeongyeon’s eyebrows rose. There was a smile playing on her lips. 

“We sent them back!” Dahyun protested. “Although I’m not sure if it counted as returning them. It was about half a century later.”

They laughed. “You’re right. That doesn’t count,” Chaeyoung said. “What books were they?”

“Philosophical texts mostly, as well as the main religious text of the reason. Thankfully, not in Latin, though I had come across texts like that.” 

“Really light reading, then.” Momo smiled. 

Dessert was then ready. 

“You were right,” she whispered to Mina, “these are better.” 

She grinned. “Glad you think so.” 

Then her eye caught on the kitchen counter. She could feel the sadness still lying there. It had drawn on the other forms of sadness. That of the girls. Directed at Dahyun. She felt guilty to have caused it, but she would be the cause of much more than that soon. 

She stopped eating. Her appetite had returned to its baseline these past weeks, but that was still small, compared to that of vampires, even that of humans. 

“If it is alright with you, I would like to start with this.” She brought the shards towards her, the cloth over them falling away. “Theoretically, I could do more, but I think it best if I do two at a time.”

They nodded, but Dahyun didn’t miss the hesitance. It wasn’t towards the shards, but rather coupled with worry and directed at her. They suspected something was off there. They weren’t wrong to, but she would have to convince them that they were. 

“I may not have ever done this with sadness, but I laced a mind with calm before.” Those emotions no longer came her way, but she would not tell them that. “Her mind was,” she trailed off, “greatly changed after she’d returned from a group of mental fae. She could not function normally, as emotions of discomfort and nervousness tugged on fear. It caused her to go deeper into the emotional world whenever they arose. She’d lose days to those episodes.”

“How’d she get back?” Jihyo asked. 

“We gave her calm and took the discomfort. There was one moment where I brought out some of my deeper calm. It was far more effective than the ‘normal’ form of it.” 

“So you made the net,” Sana said. “Did that tie your minds or emotions together?” 

The question was good. Dahyun would have normally answered it with great enthusiasm. These were the sort of conversations she adored having. They weren’t for today. Or any subsequent day here. 

“At first, yes,” she admitted. “I felt echoes whenever it would have normally flared. Nothing more.” That was a lie. “But I found a way to separate those ties. It involved making them physical and tying in more of the other person’s emotions. That’s why the sadness has laid there for so long.” It was a wonderful explanation—one she wished could work. Yet it didn’t. It was just another falsehood. Sana’s words echoed in her head. 

_Just don’t lie to me_. 

“I hadn’t had an order in mind,” another lie, “but Jihyo’s and Momo’s were the first I made. Each with a few threads of emotion I’d drawn upon in this house.” Yet another lie. It twisted her stomach two times over. She supposed the immorality there was alright, given that her leaving was worse. The potential consequences if she did none of this were far worse as well. 

“Sure.” The two nodded. “How do we do this,” Momo smiled lightly, “close our eyes?”

“We can watch a film actually. Or,” she caught herself, “you can. I may be busy for most of it—all of it.” She pulled the two shards ‘marked’ as theirs closer to her. 

“Then you’re getting comfortable,” Nayeon said. “Your turn on the sofa.”

“The floor is fine,” she said as they all stood. “This sort of thing doesn’t require a comfortable position.” Not quite true either. There were many times when she had returned to the physical world with a terrible ache in her neck, but that had passed. One such time had been recently in the forest. 

“Maybe you don’t need it,” Jeongyeon said. “But you’ll be happy about it. Get on there.” 

Two hands went to her shoulders, pushing her lightly towards the piece of furniture. The grip was light, but strong enough that she knew protesting would not help her much. It was Sana. 

Her guilt increased then. She still felt warm from the library. There had been such strong surges of green and purple, both from herself and Sana. So much of her yearned to let that flourish, but it was a selfish wish of hers. 

They sat. Sana drew up her knees, tucking her feet below her legs. She was leaning close to her. Dahyun could still smell the remnants of her floral perfume. Two things held her back from moving closer: she knew she shouldn’t and she did not know how. That was quite possibly a good thing. She had an understanding of emotions and a loose grasp of words. Both were far better than before, but she was still so ignorant about actions. 

Proximity and touch were key factors in this sort of love. That she was unaware of how to go about them might help in avoiding the strengthening of those emotions. She didn’t know. What she did know was that she wanted to close the distance between her and Sana, but also that she shouldn’t—couldn’t. 

That was when she felt the emotions from Momo. They were directed at her. She sensed a rising longing, one tinged with sadness. There was no jealousy, however. Only dark blue and purple. Then it disappeared behind something terribly similar to shame, as well as happiness—meant for both Sana and Dahyun. The sequence of emotions was perplexing. She wanted to understand it, to know why there was a different sort of sadness as a result of Dahyun. Yet there was no time, and there were other things needing to be done now. 

“You can still reconsider,” she said instead, bringing the shards to hover in front of both girls.

Both shook their heads. 

“You might feel cold and saddened in the beginning. It will fade.”

“How do you know?” Sana asked. Her gaze felt more intense than normal. 

“I tried it.” She closed her eyes, hoping that would help against the warmth in her chest, as well as the slight ticklish sensation. It was all so strange. 

Finding Momo and Jihyo in the emotional world was easy. She pushed the sadness away from the physical world and made it expand into tiny spindles. In the distance, she heard the low tunes of the TV and could smell the leftover scents of dinner. It was safe. She let herself sink into the emotional world. Fully. 

The first thing she needed to do was loop the sadness around their core emotions. She could not risk those being altered if the fae ever came here. Then she wound it through the emotions surrounding Momo’s pink and Jihyo’s orange. These were love and happiness. She didn’t let herself regard them for too long. She did not want to know to whom the different forms belonged to—especially if one of them was directed at her. 

Instead, she proceeded to cast the net of blue around the entirety of their emotions. She felt it draw upon the foreign fear in both, though Momo’s was stronger. The ice from that spread through Dahyun's mind, but she forced it to remain in the emotional world and pulled her own sadness to the forefront. If her eyes were open, they would still be blue. 

The last thing to take care of was the sadness within both—that which they had accumulated during their immortality. She bound the remaining strands to the periphery and felt how some of their sadness seeped into her mind. These were the echoes of the knowledge that they would lose their families to time, the threads that joined with the guilt that followed killing a person for food, and the thrum of loneliness that had arisen during their long years. That loneliness wasn’t great, but it was attached to flickers of love, desire, and happiness—a loneliness that came from not having someone to love—or someone who loved you. It created a dull ache in Dahyun, a familiar one. She saw a sadness that came when one either lost a love or could not pursue it. 

With that, Dahyun was finished. Purple was blossoming around her. It came from different people, but the strongest was from the person closest to her. She also felt how the warmth expanded into her mind, but gradually. It was a passive motion. 

She released the grip she had on the blue and withdrew from the emotional world. 

Her face was damp with tears. A tissue was being wiped across her cheek. She had to blink the blurriness away. 

“How do the two of you feel?” Her voice sounded thick. 

“You were right,” Momo said. “At first sad, but then okay.”

“I don’t feel very different than before,” Jihyo added. 

Momo’s gaze shuttered at that. She felt different. Dahyun would need to ask about that. Later. Would she also then raise the topic of the other form of sadness Momo was feeling? She could try, but if Momo did not want to discuss it, then they would not. 

“How long did that take?” 

“A movie and an episode,” Sana said, still wiping the tears away. Dahyun could see the flickers of purple in the girl’s eyes, as well as that surrounding her in the emotional world. She was feeling so much warmer now, the cold from the sadness and fear was subsiding. Proximity and touch. 

In that moment, she knew she should pull away. Such moments were arising far too often, but this was one moment where she couldn’t turn away. There was a tenderness in Sana’s eyes that she didn’t want to break. She had seen the hurt them today and she couldn’t stand to see it again today. It was selfish of her, but she allowed this moment of weakness. 

“And how do you feel?” Nayeon asked. “You started crying when the movie ended. It was a comedy, so we all knew you weren’t watching the movie.”

She laughed. “No. I feel alright. I’ve rarely handled sadness in that way—nor for so long. It becomes more potent the longer you hold it. As do all emotions. Usually.” Then she looked at the screen. It had been stopped at a point where two people were standing quite close to one another. “What film?”

“Series actually,” Chaeyoung said.” Gossip Girl.” Then she explained the plot. 

“That sounds,” she tried to find a word that wouldn’t offend, “a bit superficial.”

Mina laughed. “Doesn’t it?”

“But it’s addictive,” Chaeyoung replied. “The relationships aren’t great, the characters are infuriating, but you get so invested. Even Tzuyu sits down to watch.” 

“So these two,” she pointed at the screen, “couple, friends, or strangers?”

“Kind of friends, about to become a couple,” Momo said. “You can tell by the way they look at each other.” 

The screen came alive then. There was a slightly messy exchange of words, which Dahyun didn’t pay much attention too. She watched their faces instead. Beside her, Sana stiffened. Nervousness was brewing around her. 

The eyes of one flickered downwards, looking at the other person’s chin—or was it their neck? Such a strange place to look at. 

The other person did the same. A few more words came. Then the two people were kissing. It was an exchange Dahyun still didn’t quite see the point of. She wondered if it was even comfortable to be so close to a person. 

Then again, she had been closer to people in the past few weeks than ever before. That hadn’t been uncomfortable. Though the girls had mentioned that you needed to trust the person you were close to. When she had been close to another, that had been the case. 

She looked at Sana then, whose eyes were set firmly on the screen. She wasn’t watching, however. There was embarrassment—no, she was flustered. Why? 

“Questions?” Tzuyu asked. Curiosity bloomed around her. 

Dahyun took her gaze away from the girl beside her. “Why don’t they look at each other’s eyes when they say such things? Is that too intimate when one is so close to another?” It very often was for her, as though she’d be connected to another through a shared gaze, as well as physical space. It was too close—or just close than she was accustomed to. 

“Meaning?” Chaeyoung’s brow rose. 

“They look somewhere else, still on the other’s face, but pointedly. Is that meant to be a subconscious action, or are those actors trying to show something else?”

“Oh,” Nayeon began to smile, “they’re looking at each other’s lips.”

“Their lips,” Dahyun repeated. “What’s the point of that?” She looked between them. 

Sana was still looking at the screen. A part of her face had reddened. The flustered combination of emotions was growing. 

“You’re signalling to the other person, either accidentally or on purpose, that you want to kiss them. Some people just kiss, but that’s not always great, especially if the other person doesn’t want that kiss.”

“And,” Jeongyeon piped up, “if the other person does the same, you can be pretty sure they want that kiss too. Like a silent form of consent.” 

“Right,” Dahyun nodded, “there were some elves, even fae, who ignored such rules at times. They broke that personal space barrier you once told me about.” 

“Other fae too?” Chaeyoung asked. “Does that mean your clan were the least involved? You know, among the fae as a whole.”

“If you mean the romantic sense, yes.” She thought of the rare occurrences when she’d had a ‘suitor’. “Most understood that they’d be denied. Others tried before realising that we would not reciprocate their desires. There were never full breaches of those boundaries, as I’ve heard of happening here. We also saw such things earlier, so we chose to evade before anything could strengthen. A rejection, so to speak, though we didn’t know what that really was.” She paused then. “It was uncomfortable at times. I suppose here, you’d say we were definite prudes.” 

They chuckled, including Sana, though her humour was subdued. As Dahyun began to wonder why that was, she recalled earlier moments in the library, as well as a few other moments. 

_It’s not your chin, Dahyun-ah_. She’d said it had been the fat below it. 

Dahyun should have known that wasn’t quite the truth, but the sheer closeness during that moment, the slow yet steadily growing love she felt for Sana—it had all been at the forefront of her mind. She hadn’t really wanted to spend even more time rethinking that conversation. Now she did. 

The realisation made her entire face warm, but not due to a specific emotion. It was that physical reaction when one was flustered. She was blushing. Sana’s silence made more than enough sense now. 

She didn’t stay in the house that night. She’d given them, or rather Sana, her promise that she would come back. She told them she was going to make more potions, which was true, but she also needed the time to think. 

Inspecting the web of calm she’d woven through the forest, she corrected the flaws. She’d gone through here a few times already, but still there were gaps or areas where the manipulations she’d made were too obvious. If an emotional fae looked hard enough, they would see those changes, but they wouldn’t be able to undo them. She was the only fae made up of calm and sadness. That had been a point of concern, especially when she’d grown to possess sadness. Some believed it was a bad omen, but most had been divided on whether or not it meant Dahyun was twisted in some way, or she was the sign of bad things to come. Now, she knew both to be true. 

And yet, there could still be something good to come from that combination of emotions. The forest was a prime example of it, as well as the protection her sadness could offer the girls. Aside from leaving, it was the best thing she could do for them. 

She finished with the part of the forest immediately around the house. Crouching down to the soil, she began the ritual to make her clothing resist dirt. The first step was to create an oval in which the grey cloth would lie. It required a proper incantation. She made sure no one was around her, both in the physical and the emotional world. Then she began to sing. These clothes had been along for many of her journeys. It would accompany her on this one as well. 

Leaving. Time and time again had she considered departing without warning. They said she ought to stay until Friday, but would it not be easier to leave as soon as possible? She’d be able to do four tomorrow. It was possible. It would be a Tuesday. The day after that she’d conclude with Nayeon and Tzuyu. Light and dark blue. She could not risk a deeper connection to the corresponding emotions being discovered. She was quite sure that this connection was there. If they, specifically Tzuyu, realised in what way the sadness was tied to Dahyun, they would stop her from continuing. Perhaps they’d also make her take the sadness away from Jihyo and Momo. As much as she wouldn’t want to do so, she’d comply. These were their minds and while she wanted nothing more than for them to be protected, she also couldn’t take away their ability to decide what happened to their minds. 

After the ritual was complete, she tested them by smearing on dirt. It fell away like water on a leaf. She smiled. It had worked. When she looked up at the sky, she saw it was early morning. She would not go back to the house until they had returned from school. Her thoughts had created shame. It hung around her shoulders. 

No. She truly couldn't go through with what they would refuse. If they would reject the sadness after knowing the truth, then she, as Chaeyoung had put it, had crossed a line. The girls did not know the potential cost the protection process had. Dahyun was already doing what the eight vampires would see as the ‘wrong thing’. In her mind, it was more than the right thing to do. She couldn’t properly justify it, however, not when she thought about it from their perspectives.

Should she take it back? Tell them exactly what would happen? Accept that they wouldn’t want it to be so? Or just leave it? The only one who would be hurt by it was Dahyun. That would be alright if compared to the potential suffering that could be inflicted on eight others. The humans called that utilitarianism, didn’t they? Where the suffering should be minimised. It was emblematic of her people’s mindset—of her own mindset. But even though there was a name for it, that didn’t mean it was the right way to go about it.

_Giving up parts of yourself because you don’t think you deserve them_ , Tzuyu had said, _that’s not how you do it._

Yet it wasn't about deserving those emotions. Those were pieces of _her_. She was capable of parting with them. They would lead to far better things apart from her than they would if she did not give them up. 

As for how she should do 'it'—whatever that was—she didn’t have the time to figure out what was right and what wasn’t. The girls not succumbing to a comatose state, trapped in emotions—that was how things were supposed to be. They should have never been at the risk of this. Now they were. That was her fault. It didn’t matter if her actions and future actions were what she should do or not. 

She knew this, felt reassured in what she was doing, but there was still guilt. The thought of leaving pained her still. The longing to stay hadn’t lessened, though she’d recounted all of the reasons why she must leave. Her love for the eight had strengthened, though she should have done all she could to prevent that. Even so, it wasn’t something she could quell. Nor did she want to do so anymore. 

Yet she’d had sensed someone trying to do what she should have done. Someone who overturned her emotions when they arose, pushing them down and replacing them with happiness for another. Momo. Dahyun did not know why she was trying to do such a thing, but she was unsure if she should ask. What if she interfered with something Momo desperately wanted to achieve? Momo had lost a love in the past. That loss permeated through her emotions. Dahyun had seen how far it went today—yesterday. Perhaps it was her way of avoiding that same sadness when it came to Dahyun. If that was the case, she would leave her to it. It also meant that she did not need to face the complexity that was Momo. One complex set of emotions was already far too much for her. She didn’t have a hope of understanding any more than that. 

Dahyun looked into her emotions then. She could risk trying this. Her eyes would turn grey, purple and green, but it would be something to try. She took a tiny piece of that love, as well as that of her fear. She felt warm and cold at the same time. It was a simple task, winding them together, but she felt the grey growing as she worked. It settled in her head, curling around the other emotions. She forced the strand of love and fear together. Both glowed brightly in the emotional world. Then the grey faded. The purple had lost its sheen, but it remained. She’d been right. The love amassed in her time here had combatted the fear within her. 

It reminded her of the moments when she’d wanted to stop that process within the emotional world itself. The mere thought had filled her with disgust each time. There was something else as well. Interfering would disrupt the exchange of those emotions, and she did not know what effect that might have. She also didn’t want to stop loving them. It was a process that happened without her knowledge, but once she was aware of it, it filled her with such warmth. The emptiness she’d lived with since giving Teresa her love had grown less painful. She didn’t want to feel that way again, but wanted to erase the feeling completely. She also wanted to do away with the great amount of fear within her. Did that make her selfish?

The sight of purple within her brought other images to mind. She saw a face through the tangle of colour. Sana. The emotions she felt for her were some of the most complex she'd ever encountered. She wondered if that was because romantic love was so foreign to her, or if such love was truly that complicated. The complexity did not scare her. In fact, they made her want to know it so much more. To know Sana so much more than she did. There were years of both their lives about which neither knew very much about. She wanted to right that wrong. 

Right that wrong. How could such things seem so complicated with her actions, but with her emotions they were straightforward. The only thing that was wrong about the love she felt for Sana, as well as that she felt for the others, was that it would be the source of much of their pain. 

When she opened her eyes, the sun was shining brightly, but the air was cold. She looked at the watch Nayeon had given her. She’d said it was a gift, but Dahyun had taken it as a sort of loan. It was mid afternoon. She leant her head back, allowing her thoughts to wash over her. It was a moment she could allow herself. Even if there was doubt, even if there was pain, she desperately needed to spend some time in her own mind. 

_Just don't lie to me_. 

But she had. Many times. To all of them. 

Many things had become clear to her in the past days. She was not the right person for them to love as they did and she certainly wasn't the one Sana should love. Sana’s fear was that of vulnerability. Fear of loving another only to have that love taken away. Was this not exactly what she was doing? Hurting her in the way she’d never wanted to be hurt. It was a power Dahyun should have never possessed and it wasn’t even the one she had been born with. She’d said it yesterday: Sana would be loved by someone who would not hurt her as she would—would not lie to her as much as she had.

Dahyun wondered if she’d be alive long enough to know that Sana would not be hurt in this way again. She'd only know that later—if she reached the future. She hoped that the only pain Sana would feel would be the one of this week. She hoped that would be the only pain any of them felt. How feasible was such a thing?

Dahyun got to her feet, taking herself out of her mind. She had made her clothes ready for her departure, made further improvements to the net of the forest, and attempted to process her thoughts. She was unsure if she had come to any proper conclusions. There were still so many threads that should have been tied together, but most would be left dangling apart from one another. 

She decided that was alright. Something else had to be done now. She drew out her telephone. There were threads she was capable of weaving together. There would be no complexity nor ambiguity. These were conversations she could have and should have. She'd have them today. 

“So you’re really leaving?” Irene asked. “Just like that?”

Dahyun nodded. “Yes. By the end of the week.” 

Joy frowned. “And you won’t be in school?”

“No. There are things I still have to take care of,” she said. 

“Not your parents?” 

She shook her head. “Too busy.” The casual phrasing felt wrong, but she couldn’t tell the truth or even allude to it. She also knew she would see pity among the girls. She didn’t want that. 

“That sucks,” said Wendy, “will you at least be coming to the party?” A half smile. “Might be awkward, but I promise it’s fun.”

“Awkward?” She could think of a number of reasons why there wouldn’t be any mindless fun for her, but few of them would be ones her friends would know. 

“Jisoo is one of Jennie’s best friends.” 

Why was that an issue? There were certainly people in the school who disliked her, but neither Jisoo nor even Jennie had shown any strong negative feelings towards her. 

Irene smiled slightly, some humour appearing. “You know the whole school thinks Sana broke up with her for you, right?” There was disappointment as well, but thankfully not very strong.

Dahyun had heard some of the talk there. People had thought she and Irene would become a couple. Had no vampire been involved in her life, perhaps that would have been the case. 

“Jennie had thought that as well.” At least it had sounded like that. “But there were other reasons too.” Another thing she’d be unable to explain. She hoped Sana would allow herself to be open to love another, as much as the thought tugged at her. She wondered if there would be any chance of that happening among the girls surrounding her. Each had a beautiful soul, one that seemed deeper than that of other humans. She wanted to tell the girls this, but a part of her believed that not to be the wisest decision. She could still try. 

Joy shrugged. “Well, you’re pretty good when it comes to those situations. Are you coming to the party?”

Those situations. Dahyun found it quite funny. A year ago, she would have been absolutely clueless about most human ‘situations’. “No,” she said. “Can’t make it.” The fact saddened her. She hadn’t told the girls that yet. She’d have to later when she went home. 

Home. The word made her chest ache, but it also made her smile. She had been forced to leave her home and given up much of what tied her to it in the last years. She hadn’t thought she’d ever be somewhere, among several someones, whom she trusted as much as she did. While she was leaving them behind as well, she could at least say she’d found a home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pure Dahyun chapter this time. There are things I wanted to both clarify and explore with her thought process at the end. Like the way she's not told them about what the sadness in their minds will mean for the future, as well as the other doubts at this stage. Her thought process might be quite frustrating for some and it is. If the vampires were to hear any of those thoughts, I can't even imagine how much red and grey (the mixture is basically because you're mad as a result of intense worry for someone) would be emanating from them. 
> 
> Regardless, Dahyun's pretty much set for her departure. She's decided she won't go to the party. At this point, do you think she can be stopped from leaving? Or encouraged to come back?
> 
> Thank you (I say this often, but I will say it again) for supporting this story. The teasers for their comeback make me so excited, so let's all look forward to that!


	19. Eyes

Momo was waiting in the forest. She knew she probably shouldn’t have, but she’d heard Dahyun say she wasn’t going to the party. That meant she was leaving even earlier. It was Tuesday. Would she leave Friday morning? Before then? There were still six of them left. If Dahyun still did two per day, she’d leave on Thursday. If she did more, maybe she’d already leave tomorrow. Momo’s chest hurt just thinking about it. None of them were ready. Not the others, not Dahyun, not Momo, and definitely not Sana. 

She heard a few footfalls then. Dahyun had already been hiding them. She realised then how easy it would be for the fairy to just disappear. Momo hoped she wouldn’t. It would hurt more than not even getting to say goodbye. 

“Momo?” she heard her call. 

She looked over to where the call had come from to see her standing just a few meters away. The fairy had worn normal clothes for the occasion. Momo found herself wishing everything could be normal—their type of normal. She wished that Dahyun wasn’t fleeing from something, that Dahyun wasn’t trying to protect them from that something, and that she could stay. Even if that meant she had to figure a lot out about her own feelings, she’d rather face those than watch Dahyun leave. 

“Hey,” she smiled, “you’re not coming to the party?” Might as well admit that she'd used her enhanced sense. _Normal_. 

Dahyun only nodded, her eyes falling to the floor. “Is that why your sadness has permeated through the forest?” She held up a hand and Momo watched as spindles of dark blue appeared in them. 

“So your net is working?” She walked over and pinched one between her fingers. Dahyun didn’t stop her. 

It was cool to the touch. She felt it respond to the emotions in her own heart, as if it was drawn to her. She didn’t get sucked in like with the shard of love, but the ache in her chest got more pronounced. It made her want to throw caution to the wind and just ask Dahyun to stay right then and there.

She let go. “Can we leave it in the forest? Or is that bad for it?”

Dahyun shook her head. “We can leave it.” The blue threads disappeared. “Why are you so sad?” she asked. “Is it because of what you heard, because I am leaving, or something else?” Her eyes scanned Momo’s. Then they fell. “I may not understand very much, but I know sadness better than I do myself,” she said. “Partially because it makes up a great part of me, but also because I,” she trailed off. 

Momo chuckled. “Studied it?” She had a good feeling she knew what Dahyun was addressing. Once again, she decided that the fairy not knowing what exactly that was would be better for all of them. 

“Yes. And I know that there’s a different sort of sadness accumulating in you,” she said. “It’s directed at me.” Searching her eyes, “What have I done wrong?”

That was not the right thought process. “Nothing, nothing wrong,” she replied, taking Dahyun’s hand with both of hers. “It’s a dumb reason.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Why are you asking me that?” 

“That emotion doesn’t have dumb causes. Disappointment might, but not sadness.” 

Momo looked away. Then a hand gently tapped her chin.

“How am I expected to know what you’re feeling if I can’t look into your eyes?” 

She looked up to see Dahyun searching her eyes again. Her face warmed. Even if she never meant to do it, that look still made Momo feel like she was a physics question the fairy wanted to figure out. 

“So you’re not reading my emotions?” Momo asked, letting a teasing edge come into her voice. 

“I’m not looking now. If you can, and want to, help me understand, then do.” 

She wanted to. She wanted to explain to Dahyun that whatever she was feeling had to be figured out first—but for all she knew, that might just encourage her to leave sooner. It would definitely confuse her more. She couldn’t do that now. 

“I need to make sure you know what you’re leaving behind. Who.” 

Dahyun's mouth opened, then closed again. The distant look came back. 

Momo regretted being the reason for that, but she had to say the rest. “You already know the rest. None of us want you to go. If you stayed, we’d be over the moon.” She paused. It wasn't hard to continue, but she wanted to give Dahyun time to process what she was hearing. “But there’s someone in that house whose heart will be broken, and she won’t really know why it hurts so much.” 

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t,” she began, “I don’t understand.” A pause. “Well, I do. I’ve seen how heartbreak looks, but,” her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth, “people recover, do they not?” 

In her eyes, Momo saw the confusion, the conflict. She had to be careful with how she addressed this. It wasn’t fair to assume Dahyun knew exactly what she was doing. Maybe the pain that the girls and Momo would feel looked the same to the one Sana would feel. She didn’t know how Dahyun would see it, but they definitely weren't the same. Even if they looked like it. 

“You can get back from heartbreak,” she nodded. “But that’s not my point. It’s about what comes before.”

“You’re going to tell me to acknowledge my emotions, aren’t you?” A pause. “I assume you’ve heard why I don’t want to.” 

Momo nodded. “And that shouldn’t be the reason why you turn away.” 

“Pain is pain,” Dahyun replied. “What is wrong with wanting to keep it from strengthening?” 

She fought a sigh. Dahyun didn’t know what that kind of love felt like. She did. She also knew the pain that came after that. “I lost someone a century ago,” Momo said. “I never stopped feeling that grief, but I also never stopped loving them. You can see both of those things, can’t you? Look, if you haven’t already.” She was bearing her emotions again. The thought didn’t scare her like it used to. 

But Dahyun’s gaze didn’t glaze over, they remained focused. She remained silent, listening, but her eyes held a silent reassurance. Momo could stop at any moment. She didn't need to continue. Dahyun would let her stop. 

She couldn't say it then. Wouldn't say it, but that fact alone made her love the fairy even more. She closed her eyes and pushed the feelings down. 

“He died for reasons outside of both our control, but I wasn’t there when it happened. Only afterwards.” The familiar emptiness settled itself in her chest. This was all she’d say about it today. “But there’s one thing I know for sure. And it’s that if I had the chance to relive the years we had with each other again, even if I knew I’d lose him the same way, I would go through it again.” 

Her brow furrowed then. “Why?” 

“Because some of the happiest moments of my life happened then,” Momo said. “Dahyun, something that I don’t think you know yet, is what love actually means to a person.” 

"You're right." The response surprised her, but then it also didn't. Dahyun knew what she did and didn't know. She was curious and open, but she also knew when to stop asking questions and when she was supposed to just _listen_. 

If Momo was going to tell her to truly pursue her feelings, she had to use terms that Dahyun knew like the back of her hand. “What are the connections between purple and other emotions?” 

“It tugs on others. Pink, when it is romantic love, though any form of love will be interlaced with green.”

“Happiness,” she opened her eyes to see Dahyun’s now glazed over ones, “do you lose those emotions when you get hurt?”

A moment passed. Then another. She could hear the fairy’s slow heartbeat. It had gotten a bit faster in the past weeks. She wasn’t sure why that would be. Did it have something to do with getting back love and happiness in the past weeks? Had that given her, for lack of a better word, back some of the life she'd lost?

“No.” Then her gaze refocused. “Why are you telling me this now?” Dahyun blinked once. Twice. “Is this related to the sadness I see in you?” 

_Yes_. “Not exactly,” Momo said. “But I do know you’re hurting Sana more by what you’re doing right now.” 

She looked pained then. “I don’t mean to hurt any of you more than I have to.”

_More than I have to_. The phrasing already hurt. 

“I know,” Momo said. “So don’t.” She turned away. Had to. Or else she'd really say something she couldn't—shouldn't. “Race you to the house?” Shooting her a smile, she readied her stance to that of a runner. 

A small chuckle. One Momo wished she could hear more of. “I’ll try.” 

Then they were off. 

______

“I’m aiming for four today,” Dahyun said. Some of them were at the table, flying through a school assignment, others were doing other things on their computers, while Mina was at the TV with Chaeyoung. A video game, apparently. 

“At once?” Momo asked. The sadness directed at Dahyun, not the strange one, rose. 

She smiled and shook her head. “In pairs still, but I’ll go through dinner to do so.”

“You’re not hungry?” Jihyo asked. 

“Ate today. I needed to talk to Joohyun and the others. I didn’t want to leave without warning.” 

“Who’s Joohyun?” Chaeyoung asked, before cheering. “Gotcha," she chimed as Mina grumbled.

Dahyun glanced at the rest, almost expecting someone to know the answer to that. None did. Did they not know what her real name was? “Irene.” 

Someone’s disappointment flared. In the same moment, she saw Sana’s face fall. 

“You really made some good friends there.” Nayeon smiled. “Anyone else in the school you’d tell?”

“Other than you, no.” She paused. “Why haven’t you got any close friends within the school?” It was something that she’d wondered about. Why they did not have any other green threads to other people. The only interactions she’d ever seen were those dating things. 

“Ouch,” Jeongyeon grinned, “us hermits being outed.” Then she shrugged. “It’d make the not-ageing thing pretty complicated. That works until you’re supposed to be in your thirties. Then people start wondering.” 

“And plastic surgery didn’t exist when we were wanting to actually keep up relationships,” Nayeon added. “Or social media. So one thing that could’ve made stuff easier didn't exist, and the other which makes it even harder exists now as well.” 

The social media thing had been a confusing thing for her. The girls had spent a full weekend explaining that to her, but she’d hardly spared any thought for it outside of that. She much preferred the potential of Google and the information stored there. 

There were also a series of precautions and other modifications Jeongyeon and Jihyo were in charge of in the digital world. She hadn’t felt inclined to know exactly what that entailed and she didn’t ask about it now. 

“So there is no possibility that you get to know others in the school?” Dahyun asked. “There are a large amount of people I’d say have truly good,” the words caught in her throat, “though this is not quite the right word, they have good souls. Some are even beautiful.” 

“Beautiful?” Sana repeated. A combination of emotions flowed to the forefront, but they quickly faded, pushed down by some sort of rejection. Then shame and embarrassment followed. 

“I mean regarding the emotions most prevalent in them. Sooyoung, Joy, is most attuned to happiness, Wendy to calm, and Irene also has calm and humour, though there were swathes of pink.”

“Pink.” Another set of emotions rose. She recognised it, but had not felt in some time. Jealousy. 

“Does everyone have a core emotion?” Nayeon asked. Her eyes went between Dahyun and Sana, and there was curiosity, as well as a degree of worry. 

Dahyun shook her head. “Only emotional fae do. At least in the sense that we are built upon those emotions. Other creatures, humans, elves, or vampires, each feel emotions just as we do, but no emotions to which their being is tied. At least not generally. You have pieces that are linked to your souls, but these are not comprised of emotions.”

“But yours is?” Tzuyu asked. “Of light and dark blue?” 

“Yes and no?” She smiled slightly. “The core emotions are difficult to describe. I began with calm, and only this, but as I grew older, sadness joined itself with me, or had lain dormant until later in my life.” She saw their confusion growing. “They are as fundamental to us as the nucleus is to an atom. If I look at someone from my clan in the emotional world, I will see their core emotion first. It makes them up as skin and bone does in the physical world.” 

The confusion had lessened slightly, but it still wasn’t enough. 

She raised her hands, drawing out a shard of her core emotions. Light blue and dark mixed with one another, forming a block on the table. The movement was like cream mixing slowly into coffee. “You would see this if you looked at me. Other emotions that I feel would look like this.” 

Several different colours pierced through the blue. She made them flash or flow across the surface. There was a small ache in her then. 

Then she took another set of emotions and compressed them into a separate piece beside the model of ‘her’. The movement was slightly faster, like a muted whirlpool. She placed some light blue into the centre, but only a small portion of it. The other emotions flowed around it. She let purple pass through blue, as though the light blue were a fog and the purple a bird of some sort. The ache was stronger now. Had she made the pieces too big? 

“This is someone not from my clan. It could be any of you or another fae. Emotions come to the forefront or bury themselves within you.” She made dark blue flow within the core, sometimes coming to the outside before going back in. “An immortal would likely look like this, that sadness sometimes joined by happiness or love, but also grief.” 

Threads of black migrated to the core of the object, coming to a lazy spiral. Green coils danced around the dark blue, while purple swam around it all in a cloud. Her fingertips were beginning to cool, a numbness had settled over her skin. It was an echo of being completely empty. She felt a panic start to settle in her stomach. 

“It changes from person to person, naturally. And things look slightly different between the worlds.” Dahyun let herself absorb both blocks of emotion. The small pocket of emptiness in her chest disappeared. She felt warm again. 

When she looked up, they were all staring at her. She saw less confusion and much more awe. It was good that they had not noticed her brief moment of panic.

Momo spoke first. “That was beautiful.” 

Dahyun smiled. “I used to make such constructs when I first found—learned how to make emotions physical.” She cursed herself for the stumble. Hoping they did not catch it, or would at least forget, she pulled the shards of sadness towards her. “I would like to do four today, if that’s alright with you. Still two at a time, but I’d start during dinner today. I already ate enough for the day.” 

There were flickers of concern, as well as some pangs of disappointment. Both appeared in Sana too, as well as that same jealousy, but in a far smaller amount. 

“Here I have Mina, Jeongyeon, Chaeyoung, and Sana.” She let small strands emerge from each before making them sink back. 

“So we’re last?” Nayeon looked to Tzuyu. “Oldest and youngest. I hope that means I’m still your favourite.” She winked. 

Dahyun smiled again. “Of course.” She closed her eyes, reaching out to Mina and Jeongyeon first. Two people were guiding her to a sofa, their touch tentative. She opened her eyes. Sana and Momo were at her sides, both with one hand on her arm and one on her back. “I can stand while I do this.”

“We know,” Momo smiled at her. “But if you stand in front of the TV or are staring at us while we eat, things might get complicated.” 

She laughed at that. “I suppose you’re right.”

“She usually is,” Sana added. 

An older thought returned to her then. Why hadn’t Sana and Momo become romantically involved? She sensed a certain comparability there. Or, not comparability, but they were well attuned to one another. 

Then she was sat down and the two left. Sana’s eyes lingered on hers before she did. Dahyun had to fight the urge to look away. Only when her back was turned did she close her eyes. Now was not the time to consider such things. She had work to do. 

_____

They were cleaning the table when Sana heard Dahyun move. 

“So you are not shocked,” the fairy said. “Sana and Chaeyoung are next.” 

“Don’t you want,” Chaeyoung started, “a break?” The words were said softly. 

Sana felt why that was. She felt the cold start in her head and travel down through to her fingertips. Then it was gone. The weight on her shoulders stayed a few moments longer. It felt just like the time Dahyun had spread sadness through her room. 

She remembered then that Dahyun was giving each of them a piece of herself. While that strange distance from before had faded, Sana was sure the fairy didn’t exactly feel completely whole. After the explanation with how core emotions worked for emotional fae, it was obvious that Dahyun wasn’t coming away from this unscathed. The problem with addressing this was that none of them knew what any of it really meant. Maybe it was like donating blood: you felt weakened until your body recovered. Did the mind—soul recover if it lost a piece of itself?

“Lemme guess, Dahyun calling people’s souls beautiful wasn’t exactly what you wanted to her.” Nayeon winked at her, before handing her a pot to wash off. 

There was no point denying it. “Was I that obvious?” 

The response was a smile. “Very.”

Sana's cheeks burned. “Great.” She set about cleaning the dumb pot. 

Yes, she was jealous. When she really shouldn’t have been. Dahyun was leaving soon, probably sooner now that she wasn’t ‘treating’ two people a day. And even if she wasn’t, she shouldn’t have been so jealous. 

As she dried the pot, she looked into her own head. If she concentrated, she could feel the faint cold in the back of her mind. She got a flow of thoughts. Dahyun gone. Dahyun pushing her away until the moment she leaves. Dahyun’s own personal sadness, one where she was bound to it, another where she carried burdens she never should have needed to carry. 

“You can feel a difference, can’t you?” someone asked. Momo. 

The thoughts and cold faded. “Like?” She put the pot back to its place. 

“You’re reminded of,” she trailed off, “the reasons why you’re hurting. All the ones related to her at least.” 

“Then why didn’t Jihyo feel different?” As Sana said the words, the answer to that dawned on her. 

Momo shrugged. “Not sure, but I was pretty sure, uh, I’d thought you would feel like that too.” 

“I do.” 

They walked over to the sofa where Dahyun was. Sana went on one side, Momo on the other. Tears were welling up in dark blue eyes. The sight pained her, even if it was something that would happen each time. 

She reached up and wiped away the tears hanging off her chin. When she looked back to Dahyun’s eyes, she saw the irises moving even more. Like two pools with their own whirlwinds taking hold.

“Okay, what movie?” Chaeyoung flopped down beside her. “I was thinking Disney.” 

“Coco?” Jihyo suggested.

“Monsters Inc,” Momo replied. 

“Isn’t that Pixar?” Mina asked. 

“Technically both.”

“What about Inside Out?” Tzuyu said. 

Nayeon shrugged with a small smile. “Might be controversial.” She nodded at Dahyun. 

“Makes for a great conversation,” Jihyo said. 

“Too intellectual,” Chaeyoung replied. “She’ll be out for most of it, so let’s watch Monsters Inc first.” 

Their leader looked like she was going to pout, but they knew her better than that. “Coco next time.” Jihyo got to preparing popcorn.

Chaeyoung had been right. Dahyun only came to when the movie was ending. 

The fairy moved closer to Sana and, even though she didn’t need to, her voice was a whisper when she spoke. “What are those?” Her eyebrows were furrowed as she took in the screen. They were still teary, but Sana didn’t trust herself to wipe those away. Especially not being so close. And with Dahyun’s new knowledge. Just thinking about the ‘talk’ from yesterday made her face heat up. 

“Monsters,” Sana replied. “The good kind. Most of them.” 

“They look very,” a pause, “odd.” Then she chuckled and looked away from Sana, her gaze already shuttering. “Good we didn’t start with such films.” With that, she got up. The distance felt like a stab. Her breath caught. Dahyun's eyes locked on to hers then. The girl looked away just as quickly. 

“Wait a sec,” Chaeyoung paused the movie, “please tell me you’re going to bed.”

Something flashed across her eyes. Guilt? “I’m not.”

For a brief moment, Sana was sure she was leaving, but she hadn’t finished with them. 

“I’m short on healing potions. I was meaning to replenish when I had the time.” Dahyun turned away, only to stumble past their legs. 

Sana didn’t think, she just stood and caught her. The scent of mountain air filled her nose. 

“Thank you.” She gave her a smile. A weak one. Then she pulled away. Another pang in Sana's chest. “I’ll be back tomorrow for Nayeon and Tzuyu. Then,” she faltered, “I’ll be back.” 

“But you should sleep,” Nayeon said. “I don’t think you’ve slept since the witch attacked you.” 

“We’ve had this conversation before.” Her back straightened, but her eyes were still soft. “I’m alright. Those potions can’t be made very easily along the way.”

“Wait,” Jihyo frowned, “how do you get around?”

Dahyun blinked. “We always walk. My first encounter with modern transportation was the plane here.” Her brow furrowed. “A terrible decision. I’m taking the boat this time. From there, I just go around.” 

Not a mention about where ‘there’ was. None of them asked. 

A smile. “Enjoy your evening, goodnight.” Dahyun's steps were silent as she walked out. 

Sana couldn’t move from where she stood. Her chest was aching. Even more than it should have. All she could think about was the smell of mountains, the cold creeping into her fingers, and the urge to follow. 

She followed. 

______

Dahyun made it to a tree and collapsed. She didn’t know what it was. Perhaps her representation of the different emotions had drained her. Or the loss of the sadness. She wasn’t sure. Or it was because she’d done four in a day. All had gone smoothly. There was no issue with her work. She had checked that. It was only now that she was free of questioning gazes that she felt the fatigue begin to spread. Perhaps she would sleep tomorrow. After she’d finished with everything. One night of full rest before she left. Just not today. 

It had taken a glimpse of Sana’s emotions to show her just how potent the purple was. The one in her own heart had reached out to it. She’d had to shove it down. Now she drew it out from her calm. It hadn’t lessened, but the forceful handling of it hadn’t helped her either. She felt cold. The sense emptiness was back. It gnawed at her, bringing memories of an internal silence. One that had been filled with other parts of the physical world. Terrible ones. 

She dug her fingers into the earth, trying to distract herself. 

She looked up at the sky. The stars winked in and out between the branches. She’d stay in the physical world tonight. Even though the cold did not leave her. 

“Sure you’re alright?” a voice asked. It sounded playful, but there was an underlying tension within the words. 

“Yes.” Dahyun forced herself to straighten and begin the ritual for the ingredients. In the back of her mind, she wondered if using her magic in this state would be a good idea. 

Sana seemed to have the same thought, but she voiced it. “You should get some rest.” The girl appeared in front of her. Her hands took hold of Dahyun’s. She could still feel the echoes of Sana's pain in her mind. Not only had she seen it, but she'd felt some of it herself. It made her feel all the more worse for what she was doing to them—to her. 

“My hands are dirty,” Dahyun pulled them away, “I already got one set of clothes of yours full of dirt.” 

“And you’re getting yours dirty too,” the vampire shot back. “Forget to change?”

She looked down. That she had. No matter. She completed the circle. 

“Dahyun.” Sana's voice sounded small. Just like it had in the forest. They were in the forest now as well. Was that a good thing? 

The memory made her eyes burn. “You can watch, if you’d like. I always wondered if witches did the same process or if you were more efficient.” She sent her a smile. “Because our one is long.” 

“I know it drains you. Doesn’t matter if it’s done quicker or not,” Sana said. “And you’re exhausted.” 

“It’s not that.” She regretted the words the moment she said them. “It’s the calm of the forest.”

It earned her a sharp look. “Now that was a terrible lie.” 

_Just don’t lie to me_. 

_But I do know you’re hurting Sana more by what you’re doing right now._

This wasn’t the time to reconsider such things. It couldn’t be. If she were not to sleep tomorrow, then she would leave then. There was no point prolonging her stay. She’d announced she was leaving days ago and had been doing so since then. It was worse to extend that period of time. 

“I’m sorry,” Dahyun shook her head, “but it is alright, Sana. Leave me.” Again, the words created pain in the girl. Dahyun watched it unfurl, spreading across her other emotions. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Sana's eyes had turned their beautiful purple.

The sight made Dahyun's breath catch. Her entire body felt warm. The gentle ache of emptiness had all but faded. 

She could only stare. “Don't get what?” 

“You don’t have to hide the fact that you’re tired, or the fact you’re hurting.” A finger lightly traced along her temple. “Or that you’ve been hurt.” The smallest of laughs. “And you don’t have to hide your ears.” As if to emphasise that point, she brushed the false curve of Dahyun’s ear. It tickled. 

She let it grow pointed. The smile that grew on Sana’s face made it worth it. She tried to commit it to memory. 

“That’s better, don’t you think?” 

Dahyun had to smile then. “Right.” 

A few seconds passed. The moment was a warm one. She didn’t want to leave it, but she had to. 

She got up. Sana stood with her. The blue returned. So did Dahyun's own pain. 

“Wait.”

“Please don’t raise the subject,” Dahyun said, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. The sight of violet eyes, the tenderness held within them. It was too much. If she looked for longer, she might just let herself allow her own emotions to grow. 

“Don’t drop it.” 

Another moment. No longer as warm. Dahyun could feel the cold expanding to encompass the warmth. If she brought down the emotional world, she would see purple warring with blue. Again. 

“I know you’re leaving,” Sana said. “And I know it’s going to hurt, and I know that the closer we get, the more it might.” She stepped forward. “But I don’t care if it does or not,” a sigh, “whether you can say it to me or not, that’s fine, but it doesn’t change what I feel.” 

“Technically it does—will—has for you.” All three were true. 

She gave her a look. Dahyun didn’t clarify what she meant. She didn’t need to—or she shouldn’t.

“What’s hurting me more is that you shut me out.” A hand cupped her cheek. The other joined it. “After I stopped doing that to you.” Both hands urged her to look up.

She did. 

Dahyun couldn’t find the strength to push them away, nor could she look away. Sana’s irises were not stationary. The purple in them was like molten metal. She tugged at the emotional world and saw that the air was tinged with violet, much of it in the same place as her eyes. The love of the other girl was at the forefront, not hidden from sight. 

“Then what is the alternative?” Dahyun asked. “To demonstrate those feelings when I do not know how? To do so for a handful of days or less, only to stop it all fully on the day of my departure?” Her hands went over Sana’s. She brushed her thumbs over the skin on the back of them. “I can feel a happiness that threatens to blossom the moment I face my feelings. I would want that, of course I would,” she sighed, “yet I see the terrible disappointment and loss that follows when that happiness ends.” 

“I don’t,” Sana whispered. “And I don’t want to see that either. What I want is here, Dahyun. With you. Look at me right now, at my eyes.” She took one breath. Dahyun felt the slightest breeze on her lips. It caused a shiver to run down her spine. The reason for it was neither cold nor Sana’s magic. “That's what we have now. Even if it's just for a few days, maybe less, it's enough for me.” Her eyes went from what Dahyun now knew to be her mouth back to her eyes. “Is it enough for you?”

She couldn’t look away. They were so close. The physical and emotional world had rarely been so entangled. Holding her in place were purple eyes, ones that were exactly like the love she saw in the emotional world. Somehow, they were tethered to the physical world in a person. 

Varying shades of purple travelled through the small space between them. It seemed to have no beginning or end. Dahyun could feel how she was being drawn to all of it. Her doubt was eroding. She didn't see the blue that would permeate the purple, nor even the green that was nearing the surface. All she saw were the emotions of the person in front of her. Sana. 

But she also saw the girl's gaze and how it was completely open to her. She could read it without the emotional world. She saw uncertainty and great vulnerability. There was an incredible tenderness to her gaze. She would wait for Dahyun’s response. 

The power of this moment dawned on her. What she’d wanted to do, to make it clear that Sana would be better loving someone else—turning away in this moment would achieve that. Wouldn’t that be the right thing? She'd be able to sever those ties. 

And yet, that felt like an act worse than taking the love away. If she turned away in this moment, she would drive a dagger of pain through Sana’s heart. She did not know how severe that pain would be, but it would be something she did while entirely in control of her actions. Leaving was inevitable, but she did not need to cause any pain now. 

And she was already hurting her. 

“Sana,” she said. Her voice sounded steady. “Do your present feelings truly matter more to you than those of the future?” It should have seemed nonsensical. Why think in the short term? They were both immortal. The short term should have been meaningless. And yet it was not. Far from it. 

“Yes.” The girl’s voice had dropped an octave. Despite the tangled emotions within her, Dahyun found herself wanting to hear more. 

“But what if I showed you,” Dahyun started. If Sana saw the potential pain for herself, if she saw the delicate balance that held happiness and love in place, then perhaps she would pull away. 

“I told you I don’t want to know.” Her gaze hardened, but the vulnerability did not lessen. "All I want is," she paused. "I don't want you to push me away."

How was she supposed to do the opposite? How could she properly express herself if she couldn’t even find the words in her language. Little had ever felt so impossible, so unintelligible for her. 

“I don’t know how.” 

There was no disappointment in the other girl. “That’s okay.” Sana smiled. It was a small curving of her mouth. Dahyun watched it grow. When she looked back at her eyes, they were just as gentle, despite still being alive with ever-changing pools of purple and indigo. “Do you want to know?” 

The choice had come. She could still pull away. Perhaps she would watch Sana's heart break right before her eyes, but it would be something she could recover from. She only had to turn away. 

But she was held firmly in place. She could not do it. 

She could only nod, hardly trusting the words that might escape her. 

The smile grew. Green flowed into the air. It made Dahyun’s chest soar to see. This was the happiness she knew would form. One that would be all the more painful when its path would be halted. Like the person before her, it was beautiful. 

“Stop me if you’re uncomfortable,” Sana murmured. Her eyes settled on Dahyun’s lips. She wanted to kiss her. 

She’d been right. This was closer than she’d ever been to a person, not just in terms of proximity, but also emotions. She didn’t know what would happen when both distances were closed. She didn’t know what emotions she would feel, what would change. She didn’t know very much in general. Did it scare her? Yes. Had she made the right decision? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Yet nothing about this moment made her uncomfortable. 

Sana leant forward, but slowly. There was a question in her eyes, as well as uncertainty among her emotions. 

_You’re signalling to the other person, either accidentally or on purpose, that you want to kiss them._

She looked at Sana’s lips. 

The uncertainty faded. Green took its place. As did pink. 

Sana closed the distance between them and lips met Dahyun’s. Every prior thought vanished. 

It was the most bizarre feeling. One she liked, but couldn’t wrap her head around why. It felt natural that she had to close her eyes. Sana’s were as well. All that she felt were the hands holding her face, lips on hers, and the light brush of a nose on her cheek. Never in her life had she been so close to another. It made her heart race, but not in fear. The warmth within her surged and she did not register her own emotions coming to the forefront until the darkness behind her eyes had disappeared. She only saw purple, pink, and green. 

Then Sana pulled away. Dahyun opened her eyes to see that she was smiling. 

“Something you’d try again?” 

“I didn’t do it right, did I?” Dahyun asked. 

The response was a cheerful laugh. “One more. Try to mirror what I'm doing.” She pulled her forward into another kiss. It was gentle, but Sana’s lips moved against hers now with more fervour. She pulled away, leaving a small distance between them. Right before she closed it. She repeated it several times. 

Dahyun tried to match the movements, but they were clumsy attempts at best. Both chuckled each time she did something that was obviously wrong, even to her. 

“Sorry,” she muttered. 

“It’s okay. First kisses are like that.” Sana's eyes sparkled, somehow even brighter than before. “That’s why you have more than one.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure about you, but this might have been one of the happiest chapters (specifically chapter endings) I've written for this story. The really difficult part to write was the Momo scene, because she's pushing Dahyun to go after her feelings for Sana, while pushing down her own feelings for Dahyun. It's messy and it's bittersweet, but that's the state of Dahmo (+ Saidahmo) right now. My heart goes out to Momo. 
> 
> However, Saida were past confessions since "The moon", but they still hadn't kissed yet. With the events of this chapter, will things change?
> 
> See you next chapter!


	20. Goodbye

The air was different. In addition to mountain air and the forest scent, that of fruits and flowers was coming through. Just those new scents made Sana's chest swell and her heart lighter. 

_I can feel a happiness that threatens to blossom the moment I face my feelings._

Was this that happiness? Sana's smile hadn’t faded since their last kiss ended and Dahyun’s eyes began to droop. Her lips still tingled and her heart had only just returned to its normal pace. 

She couldn’t get a pair of eyes out of her mind. Ones that held a vortex of purple, green and pink, dancing around one another within two irises. She almost wished Dahyun would open her eyes now so she could watch those colours again. Though she hadn’t heard the words to match, the sight was more than enough for her right now. 

Right now. Temporary. She shut her eyes, hoping to drive away those thoughts. They had this moment. Right now. It was enough. 

They were still in the forest. The ground below them wasn’t comfortable, but Sana didn’t want to move. Dahyun’s head was on her chest, her arms around her waist, and she looked so peaceful. At some point during the kiss, Sana had felt that Dahyun was slipping. Her responses were slow and even more tentative. She still wasn’t sure if it had just been because the fairy was tired, or if it was also because it was too much for her. She’d pulled away, because for either of those reasons, she didn’t want Dahyun to force herself to continue. The gratitude in her eyes had made the disappointment of stopping the kiss disappear. She had to be aware of that. Dahyun’s mental, and perhaps even emotional, limits had been tested over and over again in the span of less than a year. Sana couldn’t push her more than she already had. And that was okay. 

Dahyun was fast asleep. Her breathing was even and her pointed ears were peeking out of her hair. 

Her hair. It was still deep blue, but lighter strands had appeared. As Sana brushed her fingers through it, she saw flickers of green, even purple. The sight made her smile widen. 

A few wonderful moments passed. Then her breathing became more even and she relaxed into Sana. Her skin rippled and scars appeared across it. She wasn’t sure if they had been cut by claws or blades, only that they’d been inflicted to cut deep. Her fingers traced the one on her cheek. It reached the top of her mouth. The one on her jaw and neck crossed over. Dahyun’s throat had been slit both by her Adam’s apple and along one of the main arteries. Wounds that should have killed her, but ones that had been healed. Not to completion, however. 

Sana wasn’t sure why, but Dahyun stirred. Was she sensing Sana's anger? 

The fairy took a deep breath. Her eyes flickered open. They were pale green, but she saw darker shades of leaf green appear now and then. Then there were slow curls of purple. 

“Have I been sleeping long?” she murmured. The grip around Sana tightened. Even though they weren’t as close as before, she still felt her heart quicken then. 

Sana couldn’t help but chuckle. “A few hours maybe?” It hadn’t felt like it. “You can sleep longer, you know.” 

“Don’t want to,” she replied. “And you’re not sleeping either.” 

“I’m enjoying the view.” 

Dahyun looked away from her and back to the forest. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? Especially in the early morning as it is now.” Her gaze was filled with something close to awe as she looked up at the trees. Sana fought the urge to kiss her. 

_Of course._ “I meant you.” 

Her brow rose. Then gold appeared in her eyes, as well as tiny flashes of silver and even orange. “Really?” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard a compliment before.” There wasn’t romantic love among her people, but she had been admired by others. Hadn’t she said that before? Or were compliments like that much more prevalent in the human world? So many differences between their worlds that she didn’t know, but desperately wanted to. 

“I have,” she said. “But not like this.” A small smile. “I don’t usually like compliments. Or close contact for that matter.” She looked away. “Doesn’t quite look like that now, does it?”

Sana laughed. “Not really.” She poked her cheek. “Luckily, I have a whole arsenal of compliments.” 

The smile widened. “Don't fire them all at once,” she said. “I hardly know how to give them, let alone hear them.” A frown began to appear. “Do you like compliments? My first attempts might sound rather terrible.” 

She saw it in her eyes, a determination to try. Sana was sure she’d look up compliments if she told her she liked them. It made the disarray of feelings within her grow even stronger. It was almost overwhelming, but somehow she liked that part of it. 

“You don’t have to compliment me,” Sana replied. “I know I look good.” She gave her a wink. 

Gold appeared in her eyes. “You do.” Her voice was soft. 

Sana felt her face warm then. “See? That was a compliment. Wasn’t too bad for your first one.” 

She just smiled in response, but Sana saw how her scars began to melt back into her skin. 

The words burst out. “You don’t have hide them.” Then Sana caught herself. “Unless, it’s better for you to do that.” Maybe the illusion went both ways? Maybe she didn’t feel them. Dahyun had said they served as reminders, maybe because she could feel them on her skin when they were revealed. 

“Makes little difference to me,” she said then. “But I know it draws out sadness in you and the girls when seen.” Dahyun shook her head. “I don’t want that.” 

Then her head snapped up. Her eyes turned grey and something changed completely. Sana could feel the tension in her body and she was reminded how thin Dahyun still was, her body only comprised of bone and muscle. 

She moved away, crouched, her face a mask. In her hands, black daggers materialised. Grief. 

Her eyes met Sana’s for a moment and she was struck by how cold they were. Not just by how they looked, but how she felt the ice in her own mind looking into them. Grey eyes turned a pale blue. Calm, but not the kind that warmed. They’re focused, tuning the entire world out. Even Sana. 

Then she stood, but didn’t move away. Her scars disappeared and her hair turned black. The way she angled herself. In front of Sana. Protecting her, while hiding every part of her that could give something away. It didn’t feel right. 

In a moment, Sana was at her side. The air was colder. The forest was uncomfortable. Was that because of Dahyun or because of whoever was in the forest?

“It is a fae. I think one of my clan,” she murmured. “You should go.” 

She didn’t move. There were two things that clashed in her mind. The first: someone from her clan might be in the forest, and Dahyun didn’t trust that fact. The second: why were they here? Dahyun already knew they were here before they arrived, so they couldn't be here to attack. Or were they just that powerful? Dahyun had said she was one of the weakest. Was that her undying humbleness or actually true? 

“I’m not leaving,” Sana whispered. 

“Dahyun?” someone called. Their voice was smooth and light. Their scent reached Sana. It was like that during a thunderstorm with an underlying edge of the forest to it. It wasn't like Dahyun's scent. 

The change vanished in the fairy beside her. She saw hope, one so strong it made Sana’s chest ache. The last thing she wanted was for that hope to break. 

“Rila?” Dahyun's voice was quiet, gentle, shaking. The daggers disappeared. Then her eyes locked on one part of the forest. Other words joined, but they were in the fae language. It was one that seemed to be circular in nature, returning again and again to the same syllables. There was a question in her enunciation. 

Sana followed her gaze. A tall figure walked through the trees. She had gleaming red hair. She replied without much warmth in her voice, but a smile was slowly forming. It reminded Sana of one of first times Dahyun had smiled. She’d had grey hair and her scent had fluctuated from rot and death to mountains and forests. The smile she’d given them had also been slow to appear. It had also been fake. 

There was no hug, but the relief in Dahyun’s eyes said everything a hug couldn’t. 

Then Sana heard the others in the distance. Their footsteps were tentative, until they stopped. If something went wrong, they’d be here in a second. 

“Why are you here?” Dahyun spoke English. The accent was like a fusion of American, British and French. She also had an accent when she spoke Korean, but it had only ever been slight. 

“We are nearing peace.” Rila had a stronger accent. It was also British with how vowels were drawn out, but French in the way it was melodic. 

“What terms?” 

The question surprised Sana. There were no questions on how Rila was, no comment about Dahyun’s time in captivity, not even a comment on what she felt about peace being possible. Dahyun hadn't seen someone from her people since her capture. 

“They agree to not spread emotions to the outside,” Rila said. “All agree to more transparency between clans.” 

“Including the texts?” 

It was a small movement, but her lip twitched. “Except for yours, the rest are available.” 

Dahyun looked at Sana then. “I burned them before the initial escape.” Her brow furrowed. Sana had thought they’d been destroyed by others, not Dahyun herself. “And what of the deaths I caused?” Shame entered her eyes. She still blamed herself—completely—for the deaths of her captors. 

There was no change in Rila's expression. Though her eyes softened. Was this how they normally were? Completely distant and unexpressive? “They want you dead.” 

Sana felt heat rush through her arms. The air crackled in response. If they were going to take Dahyun to be executed—she wouldn’t let them. 

Rila looked at her, then behind her. She knew the other vampires were there. “I see the connections you all have to her.” Her eyes flickered to Dahyun. “And you to them.” The fairy looked at Sana then, her gaze intense. It was almost like the physics look, but there was less innocent curiosity, and just raw interest. “A compromise was sought out. You remain in exile.” 

All Sana had to go on were the words being said _now_. She didn’t know anything about the politics in Dahyun’s society. Was Rila saying she could return home because they were a nomadic people? Or did it mean that she was still in danger by being where she was? Or did it mean she didn’t have to run?

Nothing in Dahyun’s eyes suggested an answer. 

The other girls had gathered now that they knew the fairy had seen them. Each wore expressions with varying degrees of worry and doubt. Momo almost looked sick. 

Rila continued. “It was not uncontested. You are banished, but,” she paused. 

Dahyun filled the silence. Her hand closed around Sana’s. It was cold. “All those who opposed?” With her other, she reached out to Momo who took it immediately. 

She shook her head. “One. Yrest.” Her eyes were on Dahyun and Sana’s hands. Then Dahyun's and Momo's. 

Little physical contact among her people, next to no romantic love, and this woman would probably be seeing Dahyun’s feelings for her, Sana’s feelings for her, maybe Momo's as well. 

Dahyun only nodded. “When did you meet?” 

“Three days ago.” 

The grip on Sana’s hand tightened. Her skin was colder now. 

“ _Ajha, Rila_.” A few other words in a foreign language flowed from Dahyun. More questions. 

The response came back in an equally curt, yet melodic manner. Sana couldn’t glean much from Rila's voice. Dahyun looked both saddened and relieved at what she heard. 

“I’m sorry to have come under such circumstances,” Rila nodded at them, “though I thank you for helping Dahyun recover from what she lost.” 

Then Tzuyu, of all people, spoke. “Did any of your agreements involve giving back the emotions that were stolen?” Her tone was neither harsh, nor kind. It meant she didn’t trust her. 

Rila was silent for a moment. “They only gave us those of Teresa.”

It was insane. How could they not have asked for Dahyun's? Were there laws that didn’t allow an exile to take back what was hers? Were there no laws that allowed Dahyun to return, considering that her ‘crimes’ had been committed after she was held and tortured? 

“Sana,” Dahyun murmured. “Calm down.” The smell of the forest became stronger. 

Rila had already gone. Sana felt her eyes burning. Dahyun’s people had made peace with the other fae. They'd paid for it already, as had Dahyun. And she wasn't allowed to go back. She wasn't allowed to live in peace. 

“So that's how it works?” Nayeon asked. “You’re held prisoner for years and you have to be punished for it?”

Dahyun’s response was slow. “Those who killed members of my clan will be tried. I killed those of another,” she said. “So there was also a trial.” One where she hadn’t been present. 

“You deserve more than that,” Momo said. “Don’t they know what happened?”

“They do,” she replied. “This is the best pardon I could have received.” Her eyes flickered between them. “It is not a matter of deserving. We are a people unaccustomed to conflict. Even thievery was unheard of until recently.” Then her gaze fell. “Our law just needs time to be brought to the level of humans.”

“So your hope is to wait for that?” Chaeyoung asked. “Let that group chase you around the world until your laws are against killing you for what you did?” Her eyes were bright red. 

Dahyun's mouth opened before it promptly closed again. A certain defiance entered her gaze. She wasn't going to discuss this further. “That was a warning. They are coming. So I will finish what I started and then I leave.” She began to walk. “Rila is from my clan. We worked together for several aspects of our research, along with,” her breath caught, “Teresa.” 

"Do you trust her?" Tzuyu asked. 

She looked taken aback then. "Yes." The word was filled with such conviction that Sana found herself wanting to believe. Like the hope she'd seen in Dahyun's eyes when she'd realised who had walked into the forest. 

“Why didn’t you recognise her at first?” Sana asked. 

Dahyun was quiet for a moment. “It was the fear. It lurches when it shouldn’t. Clouds my mind.”

Sana couldn’t help but think that this made her vulnerable. Dahyun wasn’t recovered enough to be going off again. Alone. Yet she wasn’t sure if there was anything she could say, or even do, to make Dahyun realise that. Or maybe she knew it, but was now set on leaving when she knew for certain that she’d still be pursued. 

“Did you know they were negotiating?” Mina asked. 

“Know,” Dahyun shook her head, “no.” A tiny smile. “But it was sure to come eventually. What worsened the conflict was when the worst on either side became untethered, but the worst are only few.” 

“How many fae are there?”

“Enough that few can have a large effect.” And they had. 

They had reached the house. Sana wished she could go back to an hour ago where everything had been perfect, where the short amount of time left could have lasted ages. Now she had even less. And it was all going by so fast. 

____

There was a strong feeling of unease in the air. It emanated from each of the girls. There was confusion, doubt, anger, worry, and a terrible sadness. She wished she could say something to ease the tension, but the only words she knew would help were ones she could not say. 

_I will stay_. 

Dahyun was packing her things. She had enough healing draughts, some food, two filled containers with water, and one set of extra clothes. The last three things were due to the insistance of the girls. She had gotten rid of her phone. Now she looked around her bedroom, dwelling on the fact that these girls had given her a place to stay when they had hardly known her. She loved them all the more for it now. 

There was only one more set of possessions she would take: the books Momo had bought her. The fantasy and fiction (or were they just considered fantasy?) stories. She had thanked the girl over and over again for the texts. Now she cherished them, unsure of when she would finish the Ring Lord books, but hopeful that she would eventually. 

She left the room and went downstairs. The house had grown even more uncomfortable. Not even their anger had faded. 

She was still surprised at how outraged each of them were as Rila spoke. It was likely the cultural differences between their worlds. Had they known what the “laws” of the fae were in the past centuries, they would have been appalled. Dahyun had been. Yet now, they were in a state of change. And change was a fertile ground for mistakes, misunderstanding and malevolence. They were nearing the end of that. Dahyun could feel it. She just had to make sure they knew this. That they would not think that all fae were like her captors, because most were far from that. Like Rila. 

She held the last two shards of sadness in her hands. She could feel how their attention was directed at her, despite none of them looking her way. Her chest ached, wishing she could abandon reason and just stay. 

“My people, including my clan, have been moving forward these last centuries. It is slow, but there is change,” Dahyun said. All movement stopped in the room. “You know from your world how destructive a time of change can be. My one is on the cusp of overcoming that.” 

“Then why can’t they let you be a part of that?” Momo asked. 

“It’s not that simple.” In truth, she didn't know the answer to that. Was it her knowledge? Was it her role in hiding said knowledge? If she ever saw the elders, she would ask. 

A silence passed. It was uncomfortable. 

“What did you ask her at the end?” Jihyo asked. 

“I asked about my brother,” Dahyun replied. “He is alive, but hiding still. She told me that they had taken some of his emotions, but after the agreements were reached, they were given back.” A part of her wondered if they had all been given back. She hoped they had not withheld his excitement, or even his desire. Now that she had felt love, she could only hope the same for him. How she wished she could tell him all that she had learned. “Now,” she let the shards float into the air, “you will feel cold at first, perhaps even stranger than the rest had felt, given that you have affinities for sadness and calm, similarly to how I do.”

Tzuyu and Nayeon both nodded.

Dahyun was about to close her eyes when she felt a pair of arms slip around her waist. She recalled the forest. Her first kiss. She wanted to thank Sana for being so patient, for _loving_ her, when the prospect would have been impossible a year ago. She had yet to think of a compliment that could encompass all that Sana was. 

“Sofa,” Sana murmured. “You shouldn’t stand for so long.” 

She let herself be guided over, despite wanting to correct Sana—she was going to be walking for a long time. When she sat down, the vampire did not let go. She only leaned her head on Dahyun’s shoulder. The sadness within her had risen. Dahyun turned her attention elsewhere in the emotional world. 

It had become a very familiar task by now. She was struck by the kinship she felt in both Nayeon and Tzuyu. In the back of her mind, she could not help but fear what they would feel when she was finished. Would they know about the connection to their emotions? Nayeon’s affinity to calm was unlikely to lead to such a thing, but with calm being so tied to Dahyun, she couldn’t say for certain that it would not be the same here. And with Tzuyu having dark blue eyes, as well as the deep sadness held within her heart, there was no telling what that might mean for her awareness of the emotion itself. Yet again, Dahyun pushed down the guilt of lying to them. This would be the last lie. She hoped it would be. 

And then she was finished. All eight vampires would be safe. She trusted in their ability to protect themselves from any other threat, but if anyone brought them fear, grief, and anger—they would be able to survive if the quantities were not too much. Yet if a threshold were passed, they would almost certainly lose themselves. She could not let such a thing happen. The very thought pained her. She wondered what would happen if she sensed foreign emotions being poured into their minds. 

The answer to that was simple. If she could, she would come back. She had to. 

The physical world returned to her. She felt two people beside her and recognised them immediately. Sana and Momo. The pain in her chest had grown. It was joined by distant pulses of sadness from each of the girls. At least she knew the connections were working. Nayeon and Tzuyu hadn't said anything. Perhaps they weren't feel what Dahyun had feared they would. 

“I’m finished,” she said softly. Then she stood. The hands that held both of hers fell away. 

Eight pairs of eyes watched her. She met each of them, her own filling with tears. By the time she looked at Sana, her vision was blurred. 

“Thank you all for this time. I can never repay what you have given me.” But she could do her very best by leaving. She repeated that thought in her head. Several times. 

Sana left the room. 

“This isn’t something you’re repaying us for,” Nayeon said, her voice sounded deeper than normal. Then she pulled her into her arms. 

Each of them hugged her, wishing her the very best, hoping they’d see her again. Dahyun couldn’t stand to be in either world. She felt their sadness, but also saw it on each of their faces. There was no escape from witnessing that pain. 

Her own chest ached, and she knew that her eyes would be dark blue. Dahyun couldn't bring herself to hide them. They were unable to hide their own. 

Then someone hugged her tightly around the waist, their face buried into her neck. Momo. She didn’t say anything. 

They stood there for a long moment. Dahyun had to pull away first. Would she be able to? She was. It started with her head, she turned it and pressed a soft kiss to Momo’s temple. The girl’s arms did not loosen. She looked more stricken than she had before the hug. Her lips parted, as though to speak. Dahyun pulled away fully. If Momo spoke now, if she told her not to go, Dahyun believed she would listen. 

She touched their foreheads together. Briefly, she hoped it would say what she wanted to. If she said those words, it would hurt all the more. She didn’t dare to even think them. 

Now when she pulled away, Momo was looking at her. 

She smiled. It was shaky. “Thank you,” Momo said, “for coming here.” There was an urge to say something else, but she watched, again, how Momo pushed it away. 

Dahyun returned the smile, knowing full well it also wasn’t bright. She could only nod, even though she shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have delayed. 

She turned away towards the door. As she walked, she drew the emotional world towards her. Sana was upstairs. There was so much pain in her. Dahyun wished she could say goodbye, but if parting was Momo was painful, doing so with Sana would be just as difficult. Perhaps it would be better not to. 

“This house might feel strange for a few days,” Dahyun said. “I’m taking all of my emotions away from here. Those in the school are already gone.” 

Closing her eyes, she found the dark and light blue, large amounts of gold and orange, as well as green and purple. She took them all, feeling her energy fall and rise as she did. She was reminded of all that she had learned here, the dinners, breakfasts, and other conversations, of the films they had watched, and the bonds that had been built here. It filled her with a twisted happiness, one that warmed her completely, but held a deeper cold within it. Bittersweet. 

“Goodbye,” Dahyun said. Then she left the house, armed against the cold with the new emotions. She felt the sadness of the girls following her with each step. She did not look back. 

Instead, she looked at the net she’d made. Rila had felt its presence immediately. If there was an emotional fae among her pursuers, they would also know she’d used her abilities here. Regrettably, she began to unravel the net. It was far easier than creating it. She could do large swathes of it without having to go there herself. Even if they knew she was here and it was unlikely to make a difference, she did not want to leave something so blatantly obvious for them. She would know if she had to come back through the other parts of herself she'd left here. 

She stopped by a tree, and placed a hand to it. It was one she’d slept against. Scraps of emotion still lingered here. She took them back, along with the strands of her own calm. They filled her with absolute tranquility. She took back more, careful not to take any of the calm from the forest. That needed to be left intact, but the calm she had taken back gave her such comfort. 

Then there was a rustling sound behind her. It made her jump.

Sana appeared in front of her, her breath heavy, but not from the running. So much blue surrounded her, as well as panic and regret. 

“I thought it’d be better if I didn’t—” The flow of words stopped. “I wish I could tell you not to go.” Sana stepped forward and cupped Dahyun’s face in her hands. 

She managed a smile. “You just did.”

“I know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. She pressed their foreheads together. “I just want to ask one thing.” Her eyes glowed purple. Dahyun stared at them. “It doesn’t matter if it’s five years from now, ten, fifty or a hundred, but if you can, if you feel safe enough, and if you want to,” she said, “please come back.”

____

Sana knew she’d been ridiculous, running to her room after Dahyun had come to. She hadn’t been able to stand looking into her eyes, ones that were filled with dark blue and tears. She'd been overwhelmed by the scent of mountain air. 

_Goodbye_. 

Dahyun had already said the word. She was ready to leave. And Sana had hidden away. She’d listened to the fairy’s footsteps, how they’d gradually faded into gentle pads. She’d heard how her breath caught. Then how the footsteps stopped, but the other sounds, a racing heart, an even breath, did not fade. She’d stopped somewhere in the forest. Maybe adding another safety to the forest, or taking away all trace of herself from it. The scent of mountain air and forests in the house had already faded to a ghost of what it once was. 

_Goodbye_.

Sana hadn’t bothered with going through the door. She’d opened the window and leapt out. If Dahyun disappeared now, she knew she’d regret it for the rest of her life if she didn't say goodbye. 

Now she looked down at the fairy, watching how she took her words. 

_Please come back_. 

“I’ll always want to,” Dahyun murmured. “So if the other two conditions were met. I would.” Then she shut her eyes. “But I cannot promise you anything.” 

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but she couldn’t say that. Not now. 

When Sana kissed her, she tried to show Dahyun all the things she didn’t trust herself to say. If she said them, she knew the fairy’s face would crumple. 

_Don’t leave._

Dahyun’s cheeks were wet with her tears. Sana knew hers were joining them. The kiss was desperate, but she tried to slow them down, slow herself down. She needed this moment to last. 

_I love you._

Then something else happened. She felt warmth pass over her from her head to her toes, filling her mind completely. She was taken away from her physical senses. All she was aware of was this feeling. It was a feeling she recognised. It was an emotion: love. It wasn’t her own, but Dahyun’s. The love she felt for her.

The scent of fruit and flowers filled her mind once more. It joined the mountain air and forest scent as though it belonged there. She breathed deeper, feeling more at ease than she ever had. 

At some point during the kiss, she realised she was running out of air. That rarely happened. She pulled away. It was raining. She hadn’t noticed that at all. Dahyun’s body was flush against her own. She hadn’t realised that either. Her eyes were burning. Also not noticed. 

She opened her eyes and they were met with ones that glowed a deep purple. They were fixed on her, the colour swirling within them, flashes of pink appearing now and again. It was the most beautiful thing Sana had ever seen. 

She wasn’t sure who kissed who. The feeling came back full force. She loved every second of it, knowing—feeling—that Dahyun loved her back. The intensity of the emotion pulled her away from all physical sensations, including the cold of the rain, the feeling of her feet on the ground, and the feeling of her heart beating madly in her chest. All of it faded away. All except the feeling of Dahyun’s lips against hers, the arms that wrapped around her waist, and her scent. It was a moment that she didn’t want to end and never wanted to forget. 

That brought her thoughts back to reality. This was their last kiss. It would end. She felt the sadness flow through her mind. She could almost see the dark blue coils wrapping themselves around her. 

No. She _could_ see them. How could she see them? Why was she seeing these emotions? The blue curled around the purple in her vision, as though stopping it from growing. 

Dahyun pulled away and Sana tightened the grip she had her, but didn’t go in for another kiss. Her vision cleared of purple and blue. The rain came back full force. She heard Dahyun’s breathing. It was as heavy as her own. The fairy’s heart beat quickly. Her lips were swollen. 

“Dahyun,” Sana said again. How could she let her go after seeing all that? Feeling all of that? She wanted to ask her why that had happened, but she couldn't. 

The fairy didn’t say anything, but her hands reached up and her thumbs brushed across Sana’s face. It was pointless because of the rain, but Sana leaned into the touch anyway.

“Dahyun,” she said again. “Not yet.”

The fairy did not respond, but leant forward and softly pressed their lips together. Sana wasn’t overwhelmed by the emotion, not in that way, but she still couldn’t pull away. She didn't deepen the kiss, knowing that would be too much. 

The fairy’s fingers tentatively traced Sana's face. For the first time in years, shivers ran down her spine. 

_Don’t leave,_ she thought. _Stay._

She could almost hear Dahyun's response. 

_I can’t._

Careful hands went to cup her face, slick from the rain. Dahyun pulled away again. Their foreheads met instead. 

“I have to go,” she murmured. 

_No,_ Sana thought. Instead she just tightened her grip around Dahyun’s waist and pulled her into a hug. “I,” she started. The words didn’t come. 

_I love you._

Then Dahyun spoke. “ _Weh chela i_.” A pause. “That means ‘I love you, too’.” Her brow twitched. "Have I told you that before?" She had. 

Sana let those words sink in. The rain pelted down further. She didn’t feel cold. Dahyun didn’t look cold. She was warm. 

“You didn’t even let me say it,” she whispered. 

Dahyun only smiled. “You didn’t have to.” She tapped her forehead to Sana’s. “Goodbye.” 

Then she turned away. Sana wanted to say it back. She _had_ to say it back. 

But she couldn’t speak. 

The word didn’t come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have broken my own heart writing this chapter. It was even worse writing the first part, because of where the story was going. Thank you very much for coming on this literal emotional rollercoaster (have I already used that phrase?). Your support has meant the world for this story.
> 
> Dahyun's behaviour might seem very off in the first scene. While the story might deal with issues that are separate from Dahyun's time in captivity, it doesn't change the fact that she carries a heavy burden and trauma. When Rila comes, it is a reminder of her home, one to which she yearns to return to. She falls back into their usual customs and behaviour, as well as their values. Her society is deeply flawed, partially because of the distance that has prevailed between the people in favour of research. There are still unexplored avenues in that realm, but just know that Dahyun is aware of this weakness. However, she has a strong connection to her people and for a very long time, there was (near) overarching peace between the fae. 
> 
> See you next chapter. 


	21. Missing

The sadness of nine weighed heavy within her. It did not overwhelm her—a consequence of her affinity to it—but it was a constant presence. Dahyun felt the sadness of the girls as echoes. Sometimes those echoes were louder, other times softer. They were never silent. Dahyun longed for the day when she would feel none of that sadness—when the girls would stop missing her and perhaps even leave the memory behind in their lives. While she could handle her own sadness, she could not stand feeling that of the girls. She did not want them to feel such sorrow at her departure. 

Even when the echoes faded, her own feelings of loss never eased. She felt cold. She was surrounded by blue. Her chest felt heavy. Proper thought was difficult. The pain wouldn't leave her. It didn’t matter if she was in the physical or the emotional world. 

She had walked through woods and concrete streets, stopping to rest every two days or so. Time had lost its value again. She didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, only that she’d had to fight a fresh flow of tears as she did. It was food that Jihyo had made and stored in those plastic containers. She almost wished she hadn’t stopped to eat, but the vampire had devoted time to prepare this for her. If it were to go uneaten, the sight of rotting food would have made her feel worse.   


Dahyun had once believed her kin when they told her it was a curse to have sadness as a core emotion. Now she felt it was a blessing. There was so much within her and it seemed to grow as she walked further away, but she was not overwhelmed by it. She could tolerate her own sadness. It was just as much a part of her as sadness was. While the pain was itself unfamiliar, she knew the heaviness well. The same applied to the cold. 

The emptiness had returned as well. It had never faded, but she’d begun to escape it. It was an emptiness that had been caught in the embrace of eight others, its edges softened in the process. Now it was exposed. Dahyun found that it had not lessened. If anything, it had gotten deeper. 

____

The music was too loud. The smell of alcohol and sweat was too strong. Momo hated it.  


The music should have meant letting go. Dancing should have meant an escape. The party should have been a distraction. 

Momo didn’t know how long she’d been dancing for, let alone who she’d danced with, only that she didn’t want to stop. If she stopped, she’d have to take in her surroundings. What glimpses she'd caught get were of drunk teenagers. She'd drowned her senses out each time. They reminded her that there wasn’t a single reason why she should stay. 

And yet there also was.   


If she stopped, she’d leave the party.   


If she left the party, she’d have to go home.   


If she went home, she’d have to go through the forest.   


If she went into the forest, she’d think of her.   


If she thought of her, she’d listen for light footsteps, a slow heartbeat, and a gentle voice.   


If she listened, she’d hear nothing. 

She couldn’t stop dancing. Not yet. 

____

Sana had gone to the party.

Mina and Tzuyu had stayed home. Chaeyoung and Jihyo were on patrol, occasionally checking in and letting themselves be seen at the party. Jeongyeon, Nayeon, and Momo had all gone to the party with the hopes of letting themselves get lost. 

So had Sana. She’d left after twenty minutes. 

Everywhere she went, she couldn’t get far enough away. 

It wasn’t enough. 

And it was too much. 

Her reputation had also caught up to her the moment she’d stepped foot into the house. Boys and girls, some whose names she didn’t even know, had come up to her. They’d offered a drink or asked her to dance. She had turned them all down. She’d tried to do it with as best a smile she could manage. Were she less aware of the secrets she needed to keep from the world, she might have lost it when the seventh person held up a plastic cup with some sort of mixed drink. 

She’d thought she could do it. She’d gone to school in the hope that she could get away from the cascade of thoughts and memories that hit her while at home. 

It had worked until she’d seen the empty chair. 

She’d turned around and gone home. 

And now here she was, probably in the worst place she could be: the forest.

The scent was the most comforting. It wasn’t of sadness, but of calm. It almost convinced her that a part of her was still there. The only problem was that, just like everywhere else, the scent was faint. 

The fairy had made good on her promise. She’d taken away all traces of herself. The school was absent of both the scent of forests and mountains. It felt as if fresh air had left the forest. It was almost stuffy without it. 

Perhaps the worst part of all was that the house—her room—only held the light scent of vanilla and dirt.   


It hadn’t been hard to figure out how closely scent and emotions were tied together. In the time that she’d been there, Sana had learned a few of the relationships. 

Calm was tied to forests. Sadness to mountain air. Fear to death. 

The only ones she hadn't figured out were love and happiness. Fruits and flowers were what they were tied to. She just didn’t know which was connected to which. The exact scent of either changed. She knew that. Once she had smelt mangos and roses, another time apples and lilacs, and then orange and lavender. 

Maybe she could've figured it out. If she’d had enough time. 

Time. It was something that she had a lot of, but only through it being endless had she learned just how fleeting it could be. Countless moments got lost within it. Eras passed quickly, while people were left behind. Time had been one of the biggest obstacles for her to overcome. Her life in Japan was far behind her, but she remembered every detail of it. She still remembered how food from the table had tasted, how the arms of her mother had felt, and how her father had smiled at her every morning. Just remembering it did give her a pang of longing, but not the ache of grief that she used to have. 

Getting past that had involved focusing on the good that life still held. Her current family, her coven, and Momo, a connection she had to both her past and present life. She had gotten to the point where she still loved her old family as much as she had when she was human, but did not long to leave the present to return to the past. There were moments where she wished she could feel that warmth again, but most of her time was spent feeling at ease in the now. 

It had taken years for her to reach that state of mind. Now she was lost in another. As cliché as it sounded, this was a new layer to that sense of loss. It was an avenue of the feeling that she’d never wanted to explore. Now here she was, missing another part of her life, missing a person who had left _her_ behind, and missing the moments that hadn't had the chance to pass. 

Sana looked up then. She looked past the canopy of trees and towards what was beyond them. 

Her next thoughts were cruel. They gave her words that were stuck in the past, but just close enough that she could hear them in her mind. As though she was talking to her in that very moment. 

_The night sky is never dark for us._

And yet it was for Sana. She stared up at a sky of the darkest blue. The moon was waning. She only saw the stars. She wondered if the fairy looked up at the stars or at the emotions among them tonight. Was she even in their timezone? 

_Sometimes, when you direct your emotion at something…some of your emotion is transferred over._

Sana wondered if her emotions were being transferred over now. They’d add to the endless amounts already present there. There was mostly calm in the sky. Huge amounts of it. She felt echoes of it as she stood there. 

_Many people look up at it, directing emotions of despair, confusion, but also wonder at it._

The voice in her head was gentle. Her words had always come slowly. The fairy had rarely been impulsive when she spoke, always thinking over what she was saying and going to say. Sana had figured out two reasons for it. The first was language. She'd known so many, including those of elves, but she’d been more than allowed to take her time searching for the words.   


The other reason had probably been the most frequent one: she’d deliberated over what she could and couldn’t tell them. There were secrets the fairy had initially kept until telling the truth was inevitable. There'd been secrets that had stayed untold, because she’d felt they’d be in danger if they knew the truth.

There'd also been many things the fairy had been willing to share. Stories of her research and the customs of her people where she’d been more than forthcoming. Her eyes would light up when she could share knowledge and her brow would furrow as she tried to figure out the best way to explain emotions to them. 

Sana sank down to the ground. The fairy used to dig her hands into the ground. Sana did that now. The earth lodged into the space underneath her nails. It was cold. 

_The eyes, I thought shouldn’t be hidden. My skin, those aren’t reminders that are necessary._

There was so much that still hadn’t been said. So many parts of their lives that hadn’t been bared. It hadn’t just been secrets, but the other had left many memories unspoken, as she’d either not wanted to face her past, or didn’t want them knowing it. Sana wished she had tried harder to show her that they were strong enough to know about those memories—that they could handle that pain.   


But they'd never gotten to that point. The fairy hadn’t gotten to deal with her grief, nor with her guilt. Sana wasn’t sure if the girl knew that it was something she could try to work through, to process it. One thing was perfectly clear: she felt that she deserved her exile. She'd felt that she deserved more. 

Sana’s eyes burned. She took a breath, feeling the pressure rise in her nose. She closed her eyes. Then she let the tears fall.

Right in this moment, she was alone somewhere in the world. She wasn’t allowed to come back to one home and she had left another. While she was free to come back, Sana wasn’t sure if she ever would. 

Her chest was hurting, like whatever weight within it was expanding. She pulled in her knees. Every breath she took made the pain worse. How many times had she been in this forest? She'd definitely been there enough that her scent should have been everywhere, but all Sana really smelled were rotting leaves and wet dirt. 

She heard those same leaves rustle. 

“Sana?” It was Nayeon. 

She was more than tempted to tell her to leave her alone, but she didn't. She was several centuries old. She should have been be able to handle this. But she wasn’t. 

“Hey,” she croaked out.

“Why aren’t you at the party?” Nayeon was by her side. 

“I’m tired.” Sana didn’t want to know how pathetic she looked, curled up on the forest floor, tears streaming down her face. 

“Then why aren’t you in bed?” A hand took hold of her own. 

“Didn’t feel like sleeping.” Sana felt a stab of longing then. One for arms to be around her, a slow heartbeat beside her, and the scent of mountains and forests to surround her. 

A different set of arms went around her. She wanted to push them off, but something stopped her from doing that. She let herself be held. 

“Why aren’t you at the party?” Sana asked.

A soft chuckle. There wasn't any humour in it. “I know how these go. Jeongyeon’s going home too. We asked Momo if she’d come with,” Nayeon said. “But she told us to go on ahead.”

Sana felt incredibly selfish then. The other girls were missing her too. Mina and Tzuyu had been quieter than usual, Chaeyoung was prone to rant about how a race as devoted to knowledge as the fae could be so backward, while Jeongyeon, Nayeon and Jihyo seemed unaffected. But here Nayeon was, not wanting to be at a party, the same for Jeongyeon, while Jihyo had decided to go on patrol and probably wasn’t coming back until morning. And then there was Momo. She had closed herself off. 

Sana might have been in pain, but she worried for the pain the others were going through. Especially Momo. They had all seen this before. She wasn’t sure if it was worse or better this time. If she’d been able to read emotions, maybe she could have.

Read emotions. There the pain was again. Her chest ached because of it. It was like she’d actually cracked a rib. Emotional pain didn’t feel like that. Or at least it wasn’t supposed to. 

“Sana?” Nayeon’s voice was filled with worry. 

“It’s nothing,” she lied. Even though it wasn’t a necessity, breathing was hard. She was cold. 

“Hungry? We’ll go get you something to eat.”

Sana knew she didn’t believe her for a second, but the eldest didn’t ask anything else.

Was she eating? The fairy had barely managed to eat a slice of pizza at the start. When she’d left, she was eating a full plate, as well as a part of dessert. She’d never said it, but Sana knew her low appetite had something to with her captivity. Was she even sleeping? 

The pain got even worse. The flow of tears had stopped. Sana could only put a hand on her chest, as if that could stop her chest from feeling like it was freezing from the inside out. 

“Hey,” Nayeon’s face filled her vision, “let’s just get home, first.” 

Sana shook her head. The pain was easing up. She wasn’t sure why. Had it just been from the memories? 

_You’ll also think of me, as it is my emotion, one that makes me up as a being._

She’d said that whenever you were sad, you’d think of her. What about when you thought of her first? Did that bring sadness? No. It wouldn’t have. She would never leave them with a cycle of thought and pain, not when she had tried to avoid causing them as much pain as possible. Or at least, she’d tried to do everything except stay. 

Sana felt herself being pulled to her feet. 

“If you don’t want to go home, we can go wherever you want,” Nayeon said. “We can go to a fancy hotel, order pizza, have a phenomenal breakfast tomorrow, and fly to America or something. All of us, or just you and me.” 

“Just two options?” Sana asked. 

“You’re not going alone,” she enveloped her in a tight hug, “and I’m the most fun, so of course I’m your only other option.” 

Sana didn’t laugh, but she smiled. The pain was definitely easing up. Her chest wasn’t sore either, and yet it had felt as if the muscles had twisted and some of her ribs had broken. She could breathe now too. The ache was still there, so was the cold, but both felt more tolerable than before. Had it been the crying?

“Home first,” Sana said. She felt another pang at the word, but managed to dismiss it. 

Another squeeze. “We’ll plan the trip later, then.”

____

Dahyun had been crossing a street when the pain came. She felt it as the loudest echo yet. 

As the light went red and her feet crossed the sidewalk, the pain had increased. At first, she’d thought that someone was giving the girls sadness, but the more she felt, the more she knew who it belonged to. It was just Sana's pain. That fact strengthened her guilt. 

It also strengthened her resolve to take it. 

She found the park of the town she was in. There was less calm here and more carefree joy. It was an interesting change. Children would play here more often than the older humans would walk through it. She hardly remembered being a child. The emotions of that time had been either studied or lost. The memories themselves were faded by the centuries that had passed. 

The park was empty now. She knew it was illegal to sleep in a public place such as this, so she remained standing. At most, this would last a few minutes.   


Dahyun closed her eyes, reaching out to Sana. She wished desperately that she could be with her instead. She hoped that Sana would not be alone in this moment. It was not always the case, but the presence of another very often soothed such pain. It was a slow process, but it worked. 

With the sadness came small traces of other emotions. It was a combination she now knew to be heartbreak. There was confusion, longing, regret, and disappointment. The collection of emotion pricked at her eyes. Dahyun was careful not to take too much, even though she wanted to take it all. Had she been able to, she would have done so with all eight of them. 

The sadness wouldn't overwhelm her in the way that grief or fear could, but she could not do it when each echo arose. The girls would certainly know that something was happening. They had each lived nearly as long as her, knew sadness in its raw form far better than her. The accompanying cycles would be well known. If she disrupted them, they would know that she had lied to them. 

She took as much as she could without overstepping another line. The first had already been crossed when she began taking the emotions. It could be argued that there were three lines, the very first one having been crossed when Dahyun gave the girls her sadness. Yet those decisions had already been made. She would do now what she still could. 

____

“I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense,” Tzuyu leaned back, “what we know about her—this shouldn’t be happening.” Her brow furrowed as she looked down at her work. 

Nayeon looked down at the papers. Tzuyu had constructed a timeline, as well as a small compilation of the things they knew about emotions and the fae. It didn’t show on vampires, but she was very sure that the youngest of them had not slept in several days. She wasn't the only one. 

She looked at her watch. It was three a.m. Then she realised this wasn’t actually her watch. It was the one she’d given Dahyun. The fairy had left it on her and Jeongyeon’s bed. No note. She hadn’t left anything that could connect her to them. Most of her things from school were either still there or they’d just vanished. Along with her phone. She wondered if the girl had dumped the stuff in the next country she’d gone to. 

It had been a week since Dahyun left. Nayeon was worried about all of them. The fairy had been more than accurate in the house feeling ‘strange’ without her in it. All except Nayeon had been on edge, even Jihyo and Mina. She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t affected. Maybe it was because her eyes were light blue. That was a mystery they hadn't solved yet. 

Then again, Mina’s were a combination of happiness and calm by that logic. She shouldn't have been affected either. 

“It shouldn’t have,” Nayeon nodded, “but it did.” She tapped the end point of the timeline. 

_"Peace". Treaties? Dahyun exiled. Yrest (?) still after her._

Tzuyu had marked it with a red cross. 

“What’s wrong with that? The fact that their legal system is incompetent?” Nayeon asked. 

“She never told us how big any of their clans are, or how many of them there actually are,” Tzuyu said. “But one clan against the rest who decide for peace? And a member of Dahyun’s clan just happens to know exactly who'll go against her?” She ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes were filled with anger. Nayeon was taken aback by the intensity in them. “They’re not weak. We know that. It doesn't matter if Dahyun was being honest about being the weakest, she can defend herself. This clan—whoever they are—I’m pretty sure it’s not a big one. So how could any of the rest allow that?” 

“What if they do have allowances for revenge like that?” Nayeon wanted to believe that the other fae were missing some key piece of information. If they just knew that, then they’d let Dahyun live in peace. Maybe the terrible things that had been done to her, Teresa and other emotional fairies would be properly avenged. But maybe they knew all that they had to. Maybe nothing would change the verdict. It was wrong, but maybe they considered it right. 

“If they did,” Tzuyu’s mouth twitched downwards, “don't you think they would've actually sentenced her to death? No one said anything about the other trials ending in an execution or imprisonment.” The furrow in her brow had deepened. “Legal system or not. Something's not adding up.” 

“Then what?” a new voice asked. It was Chaeyoung. “Is your problem with Rila? You think she lied?” She walked over and scanned the papers. “Dahyun said they worked on a lot together. Wouldn’t she have picked up on that?” 

Tzuyu’s voice had grown even softer. “If they’re your first sight of home, you’d believe every word out of their mouth.” 

____

Dahyun didn’t know how long she’d been away for. Once she was sure there was no one following her, she'd taken a boat to mainland China and now she was in Mongolia. Her life had begun in the place the humans called Asia, but she did not know her way through the continent. Movement through the world had been dictated by instinct or finding places that had emotions in higher concentrations than others. Her navigation was now based on where she found the most calm or happiness. 

Sometimes that took her to libraries, other times to places of cultural significance. Much of the time she did not pay much attention to them, other times she allowed herself to properly appreciate those areas of human interest. Rarely did she spend more than a few hours in one place. It had let the journey proceed smoothly. She had made it to the borders of the country, if the maps were to be believed. 

On a mountain range, she now waited. Emotions here ranged from awe to terror. The sky seemed to hold more calm here. It was a place where she was tempted to stay for a few days. Depending on what news she heard, perhaps she could. 

She had sent word to Rila. She needed to tell her what she had learned during her stay with the vampires. If there was any hope that other fae had been left alive, but still in states of emotional unconsciousness, then they might be saved. Dahyun had not left anyone alive among those who had captured her. After she had been left with the shell of Teresa, she had killed the rest who she had plunged into the throes of emotion. Looking back, it would seem a mercy to them, but she had been spurred on by her rage and her grief. Their bodies had been left to be claimed by their loved ones. 

They might not have been alive, but perhaps others had been lost and _not_ been killed could still be brought back. And if there was ever another conflict, perhaps this knowledge would benefit future victims of this emotional violence. It wouldn't be a fate that ended in a mercy killing, because it could be reversed. 

Dahyun had attempted other combinations during her journey. Calm could absorb anger. Happiness could oppose grief. Love went against fear. Sadness was an emotion she still had yet to see be absorbed. Not even the combination of purple and green could weaken the dark blue. 

Then she heard footsteps and saw the deep gold of curiosity.   


Dahyun withdrew from the emotional world. The setting sun was near blinding. She had been distracted for quite some time. At least six hours now. She wouldn't know precisely. The watch she’d had was left behind. It would've been of little use to her, the only reason to keep it a sentimental one. That was a large part of the reason why she’d left it behind. And she’d considered it a loan at the time. 

“You have grown thinner.” Rila was at her side now. The cloaking magic worked just as well between fairies as it did with vampires. “Did you not have enough money?” She spoke the word as though it was a foreign concept. Among their clan it was, but not with the others, nor even the elves. 

“Much of it was used for the ship,” Dahyun admitted. “And I didn’t make a credit card.”

The other fairy frowned. 

“It’s the other form of money.” She had only amassed enough money through the trade of old human artefacts they had had in their clan. The elders had given them all a portion of those, as Dahyun had discovered the value placed on such things in modern society. Now Dahyun had spent much on two modes of transport, her education, and housing.

“Do you want more?” Rila pulled out a handful of coloured rocks. 

“Those were not given away?” 

She shook her head. “I wanted to see if you could attach emotions to them more effectively.” 

Dahyun saw a flash of emotions in front of the gold, but they were gone before she could properly decipher them. She caught disappointment.

“They do not,” the other fae said. “But I thank you for gathering them in the first place.” She handed her the rocks. 

Dahyun put them into her bag. “Any more news?”

“Little. Half of Yrest’s clan took part in festivities when the moon turned dark,” Rila said. “But the rest had not been present.” 

“So they're divided?” The humans called it a new moon. The fae marked it as the beginning of new eras. With the advent of peace, this was a thoroughly valuable celebration. That meant the ones who attended might have been in favour of the agreement that had been reached. 

Her nod was curt. Dahyun saw a tension in the fae's jaw, as well as another flash of disappointment. 

“This might be good,” Dahyun said. Perhaps she could reassure her. “Discontent will lead to discussion.” 

“And discussion to less aggression.” Rila nodded. “One would hope.” 

There was a small silence. Even though there were members of Yrest's clan who were not involved in the pursuit, Dahyun knew that the rest would be aiming for a swift search. After she had told Rila what she needed to, she would leave. 

“I found that fear can be absorbed,” Dahyun said. “As can grief and anger.” She lifted her hands. “Calm for anger, and it needn’t be my own.” A red strand was enveloped by blue. She did the same with green and black. Then for purple and grey. “One must consciously force them together. When I was struck by fear before, it was in such vast quantities that when I began to feel love, I believe they came into some sort of contact.” She smiled at the thought. “It must've been why I was not overwhelmed. That was for both times it was used against me.” 

She felt Rila’s shock. Then her curiosity rose. 

“And this was through the love you felt for the two?” 

Dahyun shook her head. “For all of them. One needn’t feel romantic love,” she said. “I have no way to know if it can draw a mind out fully, but there is a possibility.” A pause. She took a breath. “Tell Gerst that this information came far too late to me. For that, I am deeply sorry.” The words seemed empty, but the apology was not to Rila. Teresa’s father had been the first she’d informed. She had not told him what she’d tried to do to save her. It had all not been enough. Her failures had been nothing anyone could learn from. What she had discovered through the girls was something to be learned from. He would want to know. She just knew that she couldn’t be the one to tell him. Not when she had been the one to end Teresa's life. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Rila stood, “did your time among the humans tell you anything else?” 

“That we ought to learn more from them,” Dahyun replied. There were so many unexplored crevices of human knowledge that she had yet to see. When she next found books that she could read, she would try to broaden her knowledge again. The time she had would be a waste if she did not at least try to do so. 

The other fae’s confusion rose. “Would you live among them again?”

The question brought possibilities to her mind. If she were not banished, if she were not hunted, would she remain in this world? Or would she go back? 

“If I could be in both worlds, yes,” Dahyun said. “Remaining in one place for too long is still strange. Which is why if we—our people ever chose to come out of isolation, merging the lifestyles of being nomadic and settled would be a very fruitful way of life.” If there was a proper effort made, the relationships founded might last several years, decades, or even centuries. The last would be a possibility if they would know the rest of the supernatural world in addition to the human one. 

More emotions came and went. Dahyun even saw guilt. Or was it regret?

“It would be a possibility.” A smile slowly appeared. “Goodbye, Dahyun.” 

She nodded. “Goodbye. Thank you for your warning.” 

Dahyun turned away first. Her feet dug into the snow. The fear still within her had made her more sensitive to cold. She had brought a coat with her and was even wearing a new set of boots. She wondered if Rila had found it an odd sight. Dahyun certainly believed it was. 

She dug into her bag to look at the crystals. Rila hadn’t found any use to them. Holding them now, she saw flickers of the emotions Rila had attempted to use, even wisps of her core emotion of curiosity. They tugged at the corresponding emotions within Dahyun. Was there potential for emotion absorption? 

She dismissed the thought. The rocks were sure to help with more mundane matters. Any research opportunities would come later. Emotional absorption was possible even for other fairies, and this knowledge had brought much destruction. Yet that fact did not bring her as much despair as before. Her principal knowledge had been passed over. She hoped it would never come to it, but if someone was ever lost to their emotions, this information could be used to reclaim a mind, rather than free it from both worlds. Those affected could be saved, rather than spared. 

____

She’d left the books in the library. The scent had also been taken from them, but Momo still flicked through the pages. There was a faint smell of popcorn. She’d read them after a movie. 

Momo could've smiled. Instead, she just saw her face and the expression she always wore after asking a question. One time she’d asked why the author would associate green with something bad. In the middle of asking that, the fairy'd remembered that the colour associations for her weren’t universal. Yet she’d still said she felt more inclined towards Slytherin. Momo had been adamant that she was a Ravenclaw, not just because its colour was blue, but for her curiosity. Nayeon had piped up then and said they should just all be Hufflepuffs and call it a day. 

Then she heard someone curse. The door opened in the next moment. 

“Did she forget about an assignment or something?” Jihyo asked in the next room.

The door snapped shut. 

“No,” Chaeyoung replied. “We forgot about these.”  


Momo went over to the door, peeking through. She hadn’t talked much with the others. Unlike them, she couldn’t act like everything was fine. If anything, the party had made things worse. It hadn't gotten better with school either, but every whisper she heard about a certain absence got to her.   


It didn’t help that she felt uneasy in every place, but the forest, libraries, and bookstore. She felt a different kind of discomfort when she went to two of those places. When she could, she went to the library, either the school’s one, or this one, but even that just gave small relief. Their library had also been marked by the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings books. 

Chaeyoung was gingerly holding a bunch of leather, tokens of wood hung from them. Light blue, yellow, and orange. Momo left the library, hanging back some more. 

“She didn’t take them when she left?” Nayeon went over to her. “They weren’t that far away.” 

“Maybe they weren’t as concentrated?” Mina said. “The other ones were pretty big compared to those.” 

Chaeyoung walked to the kitchen and set them down. “We’re not supposed to touch them, right?” 

“The witch hadn’t taken them with her. They probably weren’t poisoned,” Tzuyu said, sitting down. “So that’s calm,” she pointed at one, “and humour?”

“Yellow is excitement.” It was Sana. She’d come down the stairs. Her eyes were tired, but not puffy. Not this time. 

Momo felt her heart clench. She should have been there for her. This was the first time Sana had felt anything like this. And Momo wasn’t there to talk to. She couldn’t talk about it. About her. She wasn’t sure if Sana could do it either, but Momo should have been strong enough for the both of them. She hadn't been. 

“What do we do?” Chaeyoung frowned. “I should've given them to her immediately, but with everything else," she grimaced, "I didn't think about them.”

“We have to keep it out of reach,” Tzuyu said. “If they come here, they might just try and destroy them.” 

“What if,” Nayeon started, “either we hide them again or, you know, take them?” 

Sana looked like she’d been slapped. “No.” 

“It’s just an option,” Nayeon replied. “We already have one of Dahyun’s emotions.”

Momo flinched at the name. It made the ache in her chest even stronger. “That’s not the same."

They all turned to her, their gazes edged with something that neared pity. Momo looked away. That was the last thing she wanted to see. 

“She gave us something I don’t think they can take away. They come to us, find those emotions, they’ll take them out again,” Momo said. “We’re not risking that.”  


And if those were destroyed, it would lead to agony. Something none of them would be able to know about, but it would happen. They wouldn’t be able to even be there when the pain hit her. She’d be alone.

“But the same thing could happen if they’re left like this,” Tzuyu replied. “Equal risk there.” 

“Maybe not,” Mina shrugged, “Dahyun didn’t sense it when she left. Maybe they wouldn’t either.” She looked at Momo then, her eyes filled with tenderness. “How’s that?” The words were meant well, but all she heard was the pity there. All she saw was Mina trying to make things easier for her. It wasn't working.

“Works too.” The name shouldn’t have hurt so much. Momo clenched her fists. 

“I’ll start then.” Chaeyoung stood up. Her eyes met Momo’s. She gave her a nod. 

Momo didn’t know why it got to her, but she gritted her teeth. “I’d appreciate it if all of you stopped acted like I’m a piece of glass.” 

“We’re not,” Jihyo said. “You’re right. It'll be better for Da–”

Momo cut her off. “Please don’t say her name.” She felt like a child for saying it, but she couldn’t take it. “You’re all acting like everything’s fine, and I get it. I just–I can’t—” She stopped herself. What would she tell them? Ask them not to talk to her about it? They all missed her. She knew that. What right did she have to make it sound like she was suffering the most? They were all handling it differently. 

“I’m taking this one,” Sana said. She grabbed the leather band with the light blue talisman. “You’re coming with me.” She was at Momo’s side in a second, taking her hand.  


Momo couldn’t even protest. Sana was just striding out of the house, half walking with her, half dragging her. 

“We’re putting this in a tree.” Sana slowed to a steady pace, letting go of her. "Not sure if we'll find a good one, but we’re gonna look for it. Or at least in some sort of hole by the stream.” A shrug. “If we don’t find one, we make one.” With that, she sped off. 

Momo followed. The smell of forests was back. She felt a part of her nerves start to unravel, but a new coil was forming in her stomach. 

When she stopped, she heard rushing water. This part of the river was maybe a foot deep, maybe two. 

_You do know showers exist._

_It’ll do. You two have just been spoiled by human plumbing._

She’d smiled after saying that. There had been a hint of playfulness in her eyes. One of the many signs that the fairy had begun warming up to them. 

“I’m sorry,” Sana said. “For not being there for you.” She looked at her. “I'm here now, so you better be prepared,” a small smile, “I’ll suck at it.” 

“Just like I will.” Momo felt a new lightness then. 

Sana was willing to talk about it, but she wasn’t going to bring it up. She’d wait until Momo addressed it. She was incredibly thankful to her friend then. She felt guiltier as well. 

“I should’ve been the one to come to you. To help you,” Momo said. “It’s just that—it’s not the same type of hurt, but because it’s the second time I,” she trailed off. 

“It almost feels worse?” Sana finished. 

Momo nodded. 

The other girl took a deep breath, before letting it out again. She looked at the talisman in her hands. “Everything reminds me of her. This forest, the house, even school,” Sana chuckled, “who would’ve thought that Chemistry would make me emotional.” 

“Or Physics,” Momo added. 

She nodded. They walked by the creek for a few minutes. In silence. 

“You don’t sleep either, do you?” Momo asked. 

A small silence.

“No."

Momo didn’t want to sleep. If she dreamed in a state like this, it was either about _him_ or the fairy. Sometimes it was about the day _he_ died. 

The first time she’d gone to sleep after the fairy left, she’d dreamt about grey skin and hair. Even awake, the more Momo thought about her, the more it hurt. It was worse that she didn’t have to have felt this pain. It was worse that there was an avoidable cause for all this pain. That was a society that probably didn't have all the information. They had warped ideals and a sorry excuse for a legal system. The result was a girl without a home. A girl who was being hunted. Again. 

“A part of it’s worse, because,” Momo redirected her gaze to the canopy of trees above them, “I don’t know what’s happening now.” The sky was a pale blue mixed with grey clouds. “She’s alone and we have no idea if they’re close behind, if she’s safe, or if,” her eyes burned and she had to take a breath, “if they caught up with her.” The scent of the forest was weak in comparison to her scent, but it still got to her. 

Sana took her hand, holding it tightly. “She managed a year on the run before she came to us,” she said. “She can hold her own against fairies, witches, and even werewolves,” her eyes were getting glassy, “she…D-Dahyun will be fine.” Sana closed her eyes then. “Look at me, I can’t even say her name right.”

Momo could barely even think it. 

“We can put it there,” Momo pointed at a fallen tree, “make a hole in the base and stick it in there.” 

Sana nodded. Momo went over and lifted it up. She passed Sana a sharp piece of ice, even though she could easily carve something out with her hands. 

“Thanks,” Sana said. 

It was a slow process, maybe because Sana didn’t want to put it away. And yet, she handed it to Momo. 

In the back of her mind, she realised it might have been a bad decision, but she held the talisman itself. It wasn’t like holding the purple crystal, she wasn’t overwhelmed. Momo understood immediately why Sana was taking her time. It might have hurt to be around it, but the scent of forests had strengthened. It was almost like she was here again. 

“If she ever comes back,” Sana’s words were said in little more than a breath, “I don’t want you running away from the fact that you love her.” 

“I don’t think that’ll be good for anyone,” Momo said. “Not you, not me, and not D—her.” She watched the river flow. “She’d given up her love before coming here, knowing basically nothing about romance. How could she even handle loving two people?” 

“So you'll just force it all down?” Sana asked. “You told me that even if I wanted to pull away, I wouldn’t have been able to. That was because you knew what I was pulling away from.” There was a soft crack as she drove the pick into the bark. “So do you really think you’d be able to do that?” 

“I think this isn’t the time to talk about that.” She was avoiding it. Just like Sana had before. It was hypocritical, she knew that. 

“Maybe,” Sana just said. “We’re good.” She nodded at the trunk. 

Momo passed the talisman to her, feeling the warm sense of calm fade as she did. The ice pick was already on the ground. Momo made it fall into the river. There was a small splash. 

Then the scent of ice reached her nose. It might have been nearing the winter, but she knew very well that this wasn’t a natural scent. 

Momo stiffened. She saw Sana stand up. Then the other vampire left her side. She came back with a man, his arms pinned behind him. Her fangs were bared and her eyes a deep purple. Momo let the tree fall and created another piece of ice. This time it was a dagger. She held it against his neck. 

He had pointed ears, eyes of silver, and black hair. He looked to be in his thirties, but that meant nothing. The ice was just as strong as hers had been. It filled her mind with questions. 

“What do you want?” Momo asked in English. It was probably meaningless, but she put compulsion in her voice. 

His eyes glazed over then. “I wanted to see Dahyun, but I know she’s not here. I have a warning.” 

Momo glanced at Sana. The grey-haired fairy had been immune to compulsion. Why wasn’t he? 

“Who are you?” Sana asked. Her eyes were filled with distrust. 

“Gerst,” he said. “I'm Teresa’s father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but we are coming to the end. I’m sorry if the story is slow at some points, but the ending I’ve got envisioned has been taking longer to write than I expected. There are some action points and emotional beats I have to get to first before I can mark this as completed. The journey might feel like it’s taking forever as a consequence, but I hope you’ll bear with me for a little longer!
> 
> I’ve tried to balance character, magic and plot as best I could. While the Saidahmo ship itself was the starting point, the emotional world became an integral part of the plot and it was fascinating for me to develop that part of the story. I can hardly describe how happy I am that the magic system had been a point of interest as well.
> 
> All of you have been so lovely and I’m so glad that you’ve stayed this long to watch the characters and relationships develop. I’m rather nervous about getting to the ending. This has been the longest story I’ve ever written and I want an ending that makes the long journey we’ve all been on worth it. These may very well be long chapters, because I don’t want to rush this story, but I also don’t want to keep you waiting too long. I'll try my best to conclude the main story and get closure on the B stories that make up Saidahmo.
> 
> To conclude, however, and to get to the story itself, this is the chapter of facing Dahyun's departure. I’m hoping it wasn’t too confusing, but I didn’t want to use Dahyun’s name in either Sana or Momo’s POV, but I did in Nayeon's. What they face is a strange kind of loss. It’s one where you miss a person (or people) terribly, but you also know they could have stayed if the past had progressed in a slightly different manner. There’s also a lot of confusion among them, especially with Rila’s appearance last chapter. They’re (especially Tzuyu) trying to figure the situation out. Are they on the right track? 
> 
> Naturally I can’t confirm anything, but if you’ve any observations or predictions, I’d love to hear (read) them. 
> 
> See you next chapter. 


	22. Powerless

Sana didn’t know if she should let the man go or not. They’d let the girls know, now they were here with them. He hadn’t tried anything. She didn’t feel any of her fear or anger fade. There wasn’t even calm. He wasn’t trying to placate them. 

Another thought needled at her mind. This was Teresa’s father. He’d lost his daughter to these people. If the hair wasn’t an illusion, he was deep in his grief. Had he not separated from it? 

Tzuyu’s eyes glowed blue. “Do you want revenge?” The question still had to be asked. Compulsion was in her words. Why was Dahyun immune and not him? Was it a trick? 

His brow furrowed. “No.”

“But she blames herself,” Momo said. “Why would she?” 

Dahyun had gone to her people, tried everything to save Teresa, given up a lot of herself. It hung around her. Why hadn’t Gerst relieved that guilt? 

“It wasn’t Dahyun’s fault" he said. "She tried to save her. I know who's actually responsible for her death.”

Sana let him go. He stumbled. As he straightened, his eyes cleared. They flickered red, but soon turned bright gold. Anger. Then confusion.

“I understand your fears,” he said. “Do not feel guilty for not trusting me.” 

Right. He would also be able to read emotions. Unlike Dahyun, he probably lacked a filter. 

“Why are you here? We’ve already been told about whatever treaties were signed between your people,” Jihyo said. “Dahyun included.” 

“And the fact that you can’t stop them from chasing her,” Nayeon said.

His eyes turned pale, but they were a number of colours. “Was it someone from our clan?”

“Rila,” Momo said. “Red hair.”

“I know who she is.” He looked around. “Might we go somewhere less close to your civilisation?” His brow furrowed. “I can feel much of their many emotions from here.” He closed his eyes. “It is too much.” 

The way he spoke. It reminded Sana too much of her. Even if it was in a different language, the phrasing, the observation, even the expressions. All were so familiar. She felt her throat tighten. 

She looked away, only to see Momo looking at her. The girl just nodded. She’d picked up on the same thing. Her eyes were already glassy. 

“We’ll go further into the forest,” Chaeyoung said. 

They began walking. Sana noted he was barefoot, his clothes were that same strange material, but a pale green. Did that mean anything? She hadn’t thought of that before. Had Dahyun surrounded herself in fear, hoping to be more resistant to it? Or was this just a coincidence? 

“Do you know what Dahyun meant to our clan?” Gerst looked around at them. “By your curiosity, I’ll assume she never told you what that was.” 

The comment stung. She hadn’t.

“She was right to. Even that gives too much away,” a sigh, “though now we are meant to be more transparent. It is only right that I be so with the people who love her.” Then he looked up and smiled. It was another very slow gesture, but his eyes glowed slightly green. His hand rose and the air shimmered blue around it. “Core emotions are a disputed subject, their greater significance is still joined with great uncertainty.” His eyes began to turn deep blue. “I tell you this because there have been correlations between those emotions and the people who they make up. They are either self-fulfilling prophecies or truly emblematic of how one’s life will go.” 

“What's yours?” Mina asked.

“Curiosity. The sort that is widespread, though not as foundational.” His eyes became distant—also something thing that reminded her of another person. “Rila possesses a far deeper side of it. Mine is more akin to confusion than what she holds.” 

One smelled like ice. The other one like a thunderstorm. Sana wondered why those associations existed. Why vampires were the ones who could sense it. 

“Dahyun’s core emotions are calm and sadness. When the latter first expressed itself in her, she withdrew completely from the emotional world.” He looked down at his palms. “I only know that it gave her great melancholy. She did not speak of that time.” Two shards of blue appeared in both of his hands. One was light. The other was dark. “In those years, she discovered how to make emotions physical.” Both disappeared. His eyes were filled with the same colours. “She returned to us and taught us how to do so, as well as one of the languages she had learned in that time.”

“Was she the only one to ever do that?” Mina asked. “Pull away from the other world?”

“Not the only one. Great pain would always require some distance,” said Gerst. “It will help the mind in the moment, but there are other times where no change can be reached.” 

Great pain. And that had led to Dahyun not wanting to be a part of that world. One she had devoted her entire life to. Yet that distance had led to her having this discovery, but where had it all gone wrong?

“From there, our studies led to a great expansion of our knowledge. We found which emotions were cold, which could energise, which could subdue.” A sigh. “And that is where the seeds of conflict were sown,” he said. “There were always slow exchanges between clans. Those aligned with fire or emotion cannot heal, while those who heal cannot properly defend themselves. We were not completely isolated from this trade, but we were not as dependent on most elemental fae.”

“So you didn’t give them much,” Tzuyu said. “They didn’t like that.” 

“We still contributed,” Gerst replied. “Though not enough. There were some decisions made that came from a place of arrogance, we know that now, but the others still stand. There are emotions that, if not handled by one of my clan, can be abused in ways that should never be.” His mouth twitched. “In the last years, we were accused of being selfish for each decision. There were wishes to combine the different forms of magic. There were also wishes to break out of our isolation, utilising all mental fae in the process.” 

“To control the minds of humans and other supernaturals?” Tzuyu asked. “Make them more accepting of you?”

“You can warp minds as well.” Gerst looked at them all pointedly. "Has that not been beneficial when a mistake is made or a misunderstanding occurs?” When they did not reply, he continued. “Those disagreements led to fighting, as well as attempts to break the boundaries between the worlds through other means. Our abilities were seen as a fusion between the mental and the physical magics. They tried and failed. Several times. They attempted to employ members of our own clan. They failed to do so. So they resorted to true violence.” His eyes shuttered. “And they did not fail.” 

“We,” Jihyo looked at them each, “we know the rest. Why are they targeting Dahyun? Your whole clan knows how to use emotions that way.”

“Dahyun was the most adamant that the other fae would not know how to use the magic in the way they wished to.” A pause. “She was also the only one that was truly unreachable in terms of what she knew. No mental fae could touch her mind, as they were able to read ours. That meant she kept her new findings from all of us unless it was absolutely necessary to tell us. Rightly so, I believed, as did many others in our clan.”

A part of Sana felt very cold then. “But they were able to at one point.” And not all of them had agreed with Dahyun's decision. 

His eyes fell. “They told us they knew of the benefits of sadness. That was after they had found the two.” 

He didn’t need to say more. His eyes were red and black. 

Sana looked away. Her eyes burned. 

"I more than understand your anger," Gerst said. "Perhaps the only consolation is that most are dead."

“So what is your warning?” Tzuyu asked. Her voice was softer now. She was beginning to trust him. 

“Someone used our knowledge to create the devices that drain emotions and,” his words faltered, “those that turn them against others.” 

Sana had a strong idea about who. She glanced at Tzuyu. Her mouth was set in a line and her eyes glowed their deep blue. Tzuyu didn’t just have a suspicion. She knew.

“And the person who didn’t think Dahyun was right to keep secrets,” Tzuyu began, “you think they went as far to tell the others how to extract emotions?” 

His voice suddenly took on greater fervour. “I do not believe she knew what she was doing.” 

“You mean Rila.” Momo was exceptionally quiet. Sana wanted to reach out to her.

Instead she looked at the fairy in front of them. His expression was pained. 

“I had one daughter,” he said. “And two others who I love just as dearly.” 

“But if it’s her, then she ruined their lives,” Nayeon snapped. “And got one of them killed.” 

The red was overcome by black. “In what state was Rila when she was here?”

“Pretty in control of herself,” Chaeyoung said. Her eyes started to glow red. “How did you know we were here?” 

His eyes didn’t glaze over. “They told me where I could find you.”

“They?” Sana repeated. “You mean they knew she was here the entire time?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. They only said that Dahyun had found refuge among vampires. We decided that she could stay with you. The only term was that she could not live among us.” 

_That she could stay._

The words tore at Sana. 

“And what Rila said made her leave,” Tzuyu said. “She wants her alone. They want her alone.” 

Sana felt like her airways were narrowing. They had no way to find her. 

“What did she tell you?” Gerst tilted his head. Another familiar gesture.

“That Dahyun’s supposed to be banished, but someone called Yrest is hunting her,” Chaeyoung said. “Who’s Yrest?”

“Next to Dahyun, she has had the most to do with your world.” 

“We figured,” Tzuyu said. 

His brow furrowed. Then it rose. Just like hers did. “How would you know? Did Dahyun tell you?” 

“A vampire and a witch were sent after her.” 

His eyes turned a pale yellow. Not excitement, nor confusion. Surprise? “To kill her?” 

“The vampire talked about scouts,” Momo said. “The witch said she wasn’t hired to kill Dahyun.” 

“And Helen was the first one to give her fear,” Sana added. 

The man’s eyes slowly turned brown. He didn’t want them seeing his thought process? The fairy’s gaze had gone to the trees. He was silent. Like with Dahyun, Sana could watch as his thoughts progressed, even if she couldn't watch his eyes change colour.

“Do you have evidence?” 

Jihyo spoke again. “You’re telling me they didn’t tell you what they were doing? You had no idea any of this was happening?” Her voice was rising. “Don’t you have people to know all that?” 

“Minds are protected on either side,” he said. “Usually.” 

“So both sides can lie,” Mina noted. “Isn’t that the reason this started?” 

He nodded. “It is how the mental fae believe we ought to conduct ourselves. I would agree.” 

“It’s a flawed system,” Chaeyoung said. “Any verdict you reach can be justified or completely groundless.” 

“Conflict among our people is extraordinarily rare.” His voice grew sharper. “Do you have something to prove that Yrest employed others? Did you see these people?” 

“We have talismans they gave the witch,” she replied. “But whoever has to see that proof would have to come here.” Her fists were clenched. 

Gerst frowned. “Our elders have never encountered vampires.”

“It’s time they did,” Nayeon said. “Bring someone with them who can protect their minds, I don’t care.” Her mouth was set in a frown. “What happens then?” 

“We will put Yrest on trial, Rila as well."

“Like with the others?” Sana asked. “And what happens then, do they all get sent into exile? Where they can continue doing exactly what they’re wanting to do now?” 

He was silent for a moment. “Their memories are looked into. As are their emotions,” Gerst said. “Depending on what we see, they will either go into exile or be executed.” 

“Can you find Dahyun now?” Sana asked. “Warn her?” 

“I will try.” 

“That’s not good enough,” Momo hissed. “You have to be able to do something.” Her eyes glowed pink. Sana had only seen her so furious once before. 

“I understand that you fear for her,” he said. His words lacked all bite from before. “But you must understand that these times are extremely tumultuous. Many of those who were once against us have given up their aggressions, but we had to fight for Dahyun to be able to live. We cannot risk falling back into conflict through any mistakes on our part.” 

“Mistakes like what?” Chaeyoung took a step forward, but Mina caught her wrist. “Stopping her from walking into a trap?” 

“Giving away where she is,” Gerst replied. He looked at Chaeyoung wearily. Along with the red in her eyes, he would be seeing a lot of it in the air. “As you have seen, my mind is unprotected. If I contact her without having my memory and thoughts shielded, anyone would be able to find that location.” He closed his eyes. “It is no secret that I came to you today. If there are any still sympathetic to Yrest and I do not know, they will comb through my mind. And if they know exactly where Dahyun is. They will find her this time. All of them.” 

Silence fell. The only sounds were of their breathing, their hearts, the wind, and the distant noises of the town. Sana listened for Gerst’s heart. It was slow. Just as Dahyun's was. 

The tension in her own chest rose. It was reaching a breaking point. Like in the forest. It had been three weeks since they’d last seen her. Sana missed her as much as she had on the first day without her. 

Then the fairy took a breath, before he let it out again. The next words were said slowly. He hadn’t been speaking like that before. He had been certain about what to say then. Not now. “When Dahyun came to you. Why was she here? What–” His mouth parted, but nothing came out. He blinked twice.

“Distant at first,” Momo said. “I think she was overwhelmed by the amount of people here. Especially in school.” She bit her lip. “But even after Helen attacked her, she tried to avoid anyone else feeling those effects. We first found out that she was a fairy when the fear spiked. Then after a lot of back and forth,” the corner of her mouth tugged up, “she agreed to come live with us.” 

“In a house?” His eyes were wide. Sana remembered then how houses had made Dahyun feel. She was uneasy in them, but she’d still lived with them.

“She asked a lot of questions,” Sana told him. “About the technology in a house, food, our culture.” She recalled the first time Dahyun ever watched a movie. Her face had been a mixture of awe and confusion, her brow furrowed as she tried to understand every single second of the film. “And our stories.” 

Gerst began to blink repeatedly then. There were tears in his eyes. 

“You do not know how important that is for me to hear. To learn.” His voice was thick. His gaze had warmed. “You are not lying to me, are you?” The look in his eyes was fragile. There was hope, but one that could be easily lost. 

They all nodded. 

“I will not tell you the entire reason why,” Gerst said. “With the connection you have to her, I do not believe you could bear to hear it.” He took another breath. “When I last saw her, she was in a state where little of her remained. Little good.” His eyes fell to the ground. “She told me that they would want revenge for what she did, that she had killed them all for what they had done. She knew they would try to find her and so she ran, to preserve the secrets until we found peace. She told me she would never come back, for my sake and that of the rest.” More tears fell. “I have lost my daughter, perhaps Rila as well, and I have lived believing I had lost Dahyun as well.” The words stopped. 

He looked up, meeting each of their eyes. The brown had disappeared. It was replaced by a gentle green. 

“But what you have told me, what you show me through the emotions I see in you,” a smile appeared, “it shows me that she has returned. And I thank you for that. That you fed that curiosity, that you loved her, and gave her something very close to a home.” 

He made it sound as though it were a beautiful thing. And it had been. She still remembered a wide-eyed gaze, a tilted head, and a furrowed brow. Her curiosity. It was a core part of her. Not like it was for Gerst or Rila, but something else fundamental to her. What Gerst had told them made that all the more clear. That part of her and other pieces of Dahyun had all been taken away. She’d started to build them up again. And now there was the risk that she’d lose them again. 

_______

Gerst left with one of the talismans. They kept the other two. It was a compromise. 

Momo was looking at Tzuyu’s list of events. Her finger traced the witch attack, the one that'd come after the werewolf. She remembered being overcome by emotions. Anger. It came from a talisman as well. 

Rila was responsible for that. Dahyun’s suffering. Teresa’s death. All that was her. 

And now Dahyun had left, still thinking the other fairy was a friend. She was alone for that reason. 

“Why couldn’t she have taken her phone?” she heard Chaeyoung say. “They don’t know how to use technology. They would’ve never linked it back to us.” There was a sharp crack, then the sound of pieces falling to the floor. Probably the phone. 

“She took no risks,” Jeongyeon said. “What if they can track objects or something like that.” 

“Read them,” Momo corrected. 

The other girl didn’t even look annoyed at it. She just sat down, her eyes downcast. “I feel so useless.”

Momo only nodded. 

“But if this pulls through,” Nayeon said. “If their society actually pays attention to what happened,” she shrugged, “Dahyun might be safe.” 

“Exactly,” Momo said. “She _might_ be safe. He was two weeks too late. He has no idea where she is. Rila and the rest _might_.”

“But we saw that with Dahyun and Gerst said it again,” Mina said. “If they don’t want to be found. They won’t. And we’re no exception to that.” 

She remembered being in the forest. Dahyun had been close enough that she should have heard her heartbeat or caught her scent. There’d been nothing. Only when she’d wanted to be seen. 

"She's alive," Nayeon muttered. Her brow furrowed. "I don't know how I know, but she is. And she's okay."   


Momo closed her eyes. Maybe she was supposed to feel hopeful after Gerst had come, but she felt so much worse. The thought of Dahyun was at the forefront of her mind. The fear of her being alone had strengthened. It knotted her stomach. She felt sick.   


She wished Dahyun could come back. She’d been reminded of all the reasons why Dahyun should have stayed. Maybe they wouldn’t be much of a match for the other fae, but there’d be nine of them. 

Now they couldn’t do anything. They could only wait.

“Do you think he’s right?” Tzuyu asked. “Is Rila under their control?” 

“No,” Sana said. “There wouldn’t have been fighting if those other fae were that strong.” 

Maybe they had other ways of protecting their minds. Ones that didn't include sadness. 

“Then why?” The youngest looked lost. “Did she–” Tzuyu stopped talking. Was she going to breakdown?

Momo went to get up and go to her, but found she couldn’t move.   


Everything was silent. Looking at the rest, she saw that they were equally as immobile. 

Only Tzuyu moved. She was trembling.

The scent of fire filled the room. Momo recognised it from Dahyun’s apartment.

A boy appeared behind Tzuyu. He held a piece of wood. His ears were pointed, his eyes blue. He looked terrified. 

That was when she saw it. A grey coil was wrapped around Tzuyu’s neck, another around her arms. Fear.

Momo watched as some fae came in, while others appeared in her view. Their scents filled the room. 

Ice, fire, dirt, and thunderstorms.

She still couldn’t move. She tried to make something from ice. There was a sharp pain in her mind. 

Sana hissed. They were doing the same thing to her. 

“You have magic?” a strongly accented voice asked. She was tall and beautiful. Her features were soft. Her bright green eyes bored into Momo’s. Then they flickered to Sana. “I thought that was impossible.” 

Another voice spoke then, but in another language. It was familiar. 

Momo felt her heart pounding in her ears. She strained against whatever held her. The pain just strengthened. 

“Do not struggle,” Rila said. “We only need to get you out of the house and somewhere else.” The red-haired fae stepped further into the room. Her eyes flickered around the house, meeting Momo’s for a moment, before she whipped her head away. Momo felt a small amount of satisfaction then. 

“You won’t have control over your muscles,” the green-eyed woman said. “As we cannot risk your vocal magic seeping through. Though you will not be hurt.” Then her eyes twitched. Sana fell like a stone.

Momo didn’t feel any different, but her knees buckled as well. Her vision went black before she hit the floor. 

_______

Dahyun had been feeling faint thrums of anger and whispers of fear. They felt far more like worry and outrage. It was felt by all eight of them. She wondered what could cause that. It was in no quantity that was worrying, so she hadn’t done anything. 

She had slowed her progress, begun taking longer stays in forests or by rivers. It was difficult to believe, but she couldn’t sense anyone pursuing her. She retraced her route and the ones beside it, but there had not been a wisp of predatory emotions. What had changed? Would they send another witch or vampire to her? Was there a supernatural being she had yet to encounter? She wished she would not have to fight. She was content to keep running. There was no telling for how long their emotions drove them. If it were only revenge, perhaps Dahyun would accept the fate they had planned for her. Yet it was unlikely to be. If they had her, they would attempt to draw out the knowledge she still possessed. They would know which emotions were best to influence, which were most easily used to sway humans, or even other supernatural beings. 

She’d managed to get her hands on a slice of pizza. It lacked the flavour of the ones she had shared with the other girls, but she still felt some happiness as she ate. Her memories were full of those emotions. While they brought with them sadness, she felt the love, happiness, and humour as well. That made remembering worthwhile.   


She looked up at the sky. The moon would be full soon. She knew of a people who'd become most active by then. They wouldn't know what'd happened. She'd barely gone to them and they wouldn't know what'd followed after last visit. She missed them too. 

That was when she felt it. Fear. 

All eight of them felt it, but the one that came from Tzuyu—it was not her own. 

They’d found them. Had the witch actually had something the fae could track? Had they missed any possessions that still carried an enchantment? 

Dahyun stood. She had to go to them. 

The fear came in waves. She siphoned some of it away. It did not sicken her, but its very presence terrified her.   


If they had known where the vampires were, why had they waited two weeks? If they wanted Dahyun back, why make her journey back longer?   


How they knew about the connection she had to them in the first place, she could only conclude that there was an emotional fae on their side—or one who was forced to help them. There was no doubt in her mind. They were luring her there. 

Was this her mistake? Or had they always planned to use the girls? Had they just needed to find a fae who could identify the ties between them? Whichever the case, she would have to face them. 

Dahyun kept walking. While it was a wretched form of travel, flying would be the quickest way back. She had enough money for a plane, but it was not the right currency. She would have to convert it. She hadn’t used the crystals Rila had given her yet. If money was lost during the conversion, then she might have to sell them. She was grateful to have a failsafe. 

She couldn’t let Tzuyu feel this fear longer than she needed to. 

She had to get there before they gave the same treatment to the rest. 

____

When Sana came to, her mind ached. Thinking hurt. It wasn’t agony, but it also wasn’t anything she’d ever felt before. Not even when she had cast a spell that demanded too much of her. Not even when she’d fought and failed to save her family and friends. Not even when she was dying. 

She could move, but every movement was slowed. She could see, but there was some kind of filter on her eyes. She tried to summon electricity, but that just made the pain worse. 

Most of the rest were asleep, but she saw that Mina was awake. Her eyes were locked someplace else. 

Sana took in their surroundings. They were in some type of cage. If she were able to move properly, she could break it easily. But she couldn’t. They’d taken that power away as well. 

She saw that the fae were dispersed around them. Waiting. 

Then she saw what Mina was looking at. Tzuyu was just a small way’s away from them. Her eyes were wide and tears fell from them. There were grey tendrils wrapped around her neck, arms, and legs. She was on her knees, shaking. 

A strangled noise came from Sana’s throat. They might have not beat her or done anything physical, but she knew that the fear coursing through Tzuyu went deeper than physical pain. 

Then cold began to course through Sana as well. She felt as though it were a winter day and the sun had just disappeared. The sensation was slow. 

Then her eyes began to burn. A massive weight settled in her stomach. She found herself unable to breathe properly. The corners of her vision darkened, but she wasn’t losing consciousness. Then the feeling faded. She could breathe again. They'd given her grief. 

She heard the breathing of the rest either quicken or become shaky. Then it all eased. 

Then she felt something take hold of her mind. She was forced to turn around. She came face to face with the green-eyed fairy. She smelled like forests. 

There was nothing in her eyes to suggest she was the leader of this group. She looked kind, almost saddened when she met Sana's eyes. 

“This won’t overwhelm you,” Yrest said. Even her voice was not venomous. It wasn’t even disconnected. Just normal. 

Sana wanted to spit at her, but she couldn’t even open her mouth. They’d rendered them all powerless.

“And we'll take it all away after. I’m told it will be like you never felt it. At least emotionally,” she lifted a black crystal, “what you just felt. I’m sure you’re aware that it was grief.” Then she crushed it. 

Cold flooded over Sana. The weight settled back into her chest. She fought a sob. It faded again. 

“Something makes even touching your thoughts or memories a great pain for me, which is why we must take over the rest of each of you." She grimaced. "The body and mind are indeed separate.” 

The sadness Dahyun had given them. To protect their minds. Maybe she'd not known about this. Or maybe she didn't know how to protect against it. 

“The grief leaves you because of something in each of your minds.” Yrest's eyes left Sana’s to look at the rest. "But the emotion does not disappear. Rila told me as much. It goes somewhere. To someone.”

The tension in Sana’s body returned, as did the nausea. 

Dahyun had lied to them. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it scared her what that might mean. She’d given it to them so that they wouldn’t the emotions at full force. Only she would. 

And now Sana knew why they had not pursued Dahyun when she was with them. She knew why they’d made her leave. Why they’d _let_ her leave. So that they could do this to them. To her. 

“As for that one,” she nodded at Tzuyu, “we cannot let her go. She’s attuned to the same protection that the other one is.” She stood. Her gaze was almost apologetic. “We won’t be giving you much for long. We know that she is already coming back to you.” 

Sana hoped that wasn’t the case, but she knew that the opposite was impossible.

Another bout of cold. This one came quickly. It gripped at her chest. She felt a scream catch in her throat. Then it was gone. 

She caught her breath. They’d given her fear. Given Dahyun fear. 

Sana had longed to see her again, but not like this. Never like this. 

The cycles continued. 

_______

Dahyun stood in the house. The air within it was tinged with dark blue and far too much grey. On the table were several sheets of paper. They described the time that Dahyun had been here. Even the time before in accordance with what she had told them. It did not have much on emotions—at least nothing that Yrest and her people didn’t already know. Someone had marked the uncertainties. 

She looked at the last entry. 

_End of fight. Dahyun exiled. Yrest (?) still after her._

Why had they marked it so prominently? Because of the weight it held for them? There was a lot of confusion attached to the list. They had been in shock at how her people handled things. Perhaps this was a similar confusion. 

Dahyun looked away and at the empty house. The trail led away from here, but she’d needed to come here first. 

Had she made another mistake coming here?

No, they needed to be able to come back to their home. This fear would linger if she didn’t take it away. They would never feel completely at ease. 

Closing her eyes, she drew it out. There was no pain as she did. She had indeed grown stronger through the girls. She would use that strength now. 

She made it into a shard in her palm. She did not absorb it. 

Opening her eyes, she was surprised by how small it was. It was terror. Hers and Teresa’s. The fae had lied. Not all of Teresa’s emotions had been given back. 

And yet, Dahyun thought, to give Gerst any of this fear would have been a cruel thing to do. Cruelty existed among all of them. Dahyun knew what terrible things she had inflicted upon others. Like her brethren, it had been a recent development. In the centuries before, any conflict on this scale was relegated to humans, animals, elves, and vampires. Never to the fae. Had that pride been their mistake? 

The next thing she did was to summon eight pieces of happiness, eight of love, and a larger one of calm. She felt slightly tired then, but not weak. She hoped she left enough. The girls would come home. She would make sure of it. 

The love and happiness she left here would hopefully ease the cold they felt. It was unlikely that she'd be there to take it away herself. 

Dahyun went upstairs and divided them among the rooms. In her own room, she placed the calm and the fear. 

She thought of what she’d do next. Her eyes fell on the paper. 

None of the fae would know Korean. She knew that. Of the talks she had seen or overheard, the most likely language that they could have learned by themselves was Chinese. They believed it would grant them greater access to the world. Korean was secondary to them. It was one of the reasons why Dahyun had chosen the country as a potential escape route. 

She felt a surge of regret. She and Teresa should have come here. Would they have met the girls? Would things have been different? Perhaps. 

She wrote on a new piece of paper, folded it, and placed it just beneath the timeline. They would likely not need the rest after today. 

Then she let some of her calm seep into the house and its rooms. It would not protect her anymore. Perhaps she would be more agitated now, but it would be fine. 

Then she was finished. 

Dahyun made sure the lights were turned off before she left the house. Then she went into the forest. 

She drew up sadness to encompass her mind. It filled her head, as though with cool water. The world became tinged with blue, but she would be safe from a mental fae’s grasp. 

The forest was full of calm, but it was soured by a trail of fear. They wanted her to find them. 

As she walked, she was struck by an uncanny familiarity. 

Would smoothened dirt walls greet her? Would they have made the layout exactly as it had been? 

She recalled carrying Teresa’s frozen body out. She had to bring down the emotional world then, if only to push the image from her mind. 

Tzuyu’s fear still came to her. The grief and fear from the rest had lessened. It had come in smaller amounts, but consistently. Perhaps it had only been a warning, a way to ensure that she would come. That they had felt the need to do such a thing in the first place enraged her. 

It was early morning. She still found some comfort in the silence, in the pale sunlight. 

Finding the entry to their tunnels was easy. They were deep in the forest. By a stream, not the river. 

Finding the girls was even easier, but she couldn’t reach out to them yet.

She searched for any fae who might be on the periphery. She recognised two elementals and one mental. Sebastian, Jerra, and Freya. Each were filled with anticipation. They knew she was here. How?

None of them could die. She couldn’t do it. They were young and no doubt believed they were justified in what they were doing. With Dahyun’s list of murders, they would not be wrong. She’d have to sneak inside, perhaps force them into a slumber. Through a knock to the head. 

And that she managed. Her cloaking magic had always been strong. She made sure they had some of the forest’s calm, as well as her own. They would be in a slumber until tomorrow.

The illusions were unlikely work for long in the main area, but she was not here to break in. 

The halls where she had once killed so many still held rage, sadness, and more fear. No, she was imagining that. She was not in those halls. These held fear, some boredom, and nervousness. 

She forced more calm to join the blue in her mind. It helped her to only feel the cold air, only hear the gentle silence. She also heard the low breaths of the fae, as well as the slight raised ones of the vampires.

It was a long walk. Each step pained her. She didn’t want to be here. Too many emotions came to the forefront for her. It wasn’t even in the same country, but the walls and floors were identical. It was how many tended to live, but she couldn’t stand the sight of it. Even if it was their home. 

Memories of emptiness threatened to overcome her. If she experienced such a thing again today—no, she could not consider it. Even so, she was quite sure they would not leave her in that state for long. It would be foolish. She took some comfort in that. 

The room they were in held great fear. The sight tugged at her rage. She reached the area, hearing screams of pain. 

_Only memories_ , Dahyun told herself. Something tugged at her neck then. She remembered dying. Then it had all come to a halt, leaving only emptiness. A cycle. 

If they had done any such thing to their current prisoners, she would kill them. Then she would turn herself over to her people. If they were unharmed, she was turning herself over to them.

These were not the people who had tormented her in the first place. They wanted her dead or to feel the emotional state she had put others in, but they were not their predecessors. They might want her to suffer, but it would not be for long. Or was it naive of her to hope for such a thing?

Then she saw them. A cage of stone had been erected around them. They still had their emotions, but there were artificial amounts of grief and fear within them. When they returned to the house, they’d be able to free themselves of those emotions. 

There were no injuries, not even any blood. All of them sat in silence, leaning on one another. All were at one side of the cage, by another figure who Dahyun could not make out yet. 

Then she saw Tzuyu and the sight pained her. She was outside of the cell, bound by fear. Dahyun took a bit more of the fear. It did not make her sick, but she felt it join her existing fear, strengthening it. 

Her attention went to the other fae. They were dispersed around the room. They were also poised to fight. She sensed alarm. They also knew of the first three. 

She recognised them all. Mental and elemental fae. She would incapacitate the mental first. If the girls had to escape, they would need to do so without opposition. 

Nyn was the closest. She would be the first. Dahyun drew out a sleeping draught, rushed forward and tied the girl’s arms to her sides with calm. Not that of the forest, but that from herself. Then she poured the contents of the vial into her mouth and clamped her mouth shut. 

There were shouts. She took the calm she’d given Nyn and wrapped it tightly around the throat of the other mental fae, Ilea. It would not kill her, but she’d fall unconscious after being lost to it. That would last an hour. 

Next was Hert. He held a talisman of grief in his hands. Dahyun felt the heaviness settle in her chest. 

She let go of Nyn as tears pricked in her eyes. 

The next thing she felt was a torrent of flames wrapping itself around her. She drew on the emotional world. She recoiled when the grief became more potent, but she did not feel the flames. 

Dahyun forced happiness, excitement, and sadness to enter her veins. The emotions would resist the grief, strengthen her, and make the pain of the flames bearable. She let them flow and returned to the physical world. 

She heard screaming, but it wasn’t her own. The scent of burnt flesh reached her nose. That belonged to her. 

She was lying on the ground. She got to her feet, feeling the distant agony course through her body. 

Around her stood three fae. Two others lay on the ground. 

Those who were conscious looked at her as though she were a ghost. She supposed her charred state was one that should have had her incapacitated. They still did not truly know the power such emotions held. If they did not find that out, she would have succeeded in something. 

Hert was the first. Dahyun forced the grief to flow back into him and let it flow into his blood. The vessels turned black. It wouldn’t plunge him into a coma, but he wouldn’t be able to handle such grief. 

She dodged the next blow, one of ice. Anger circulated around her, as well as fear. Some of it was not her own. Did it come from a talisman or the girls?

She took the anger willingly, wincing as ice and fire took hold of her mind once again. She was stronger now. The armour of purple, green and blue would be enough to delay her fate. 

Another fae managed to drive a dagger into her side. It was a mental fae. Adala. 

Dahyun tore it out, coated it in fear and sank it into Adala's shoulder. She screamed. 

She took the blade out. Adala also wouldn’t succumb to the emotion, but it would be difficult to recover. 

The last still held a talisman. A grey cloud emanated from it, wrapping itself around Dahyun. Her chest constricted. She needed time. 

So she took some of the love in her heart and brought it to the forefront of her mind. The effect was immediate. A portion of the ice in her eased. It was enough. 

Dahyun pushed the emotion away from her and a purple mist appeared. Her chest ached all the more. The fear in the air subsided. 

The fae was elemental. Those flames had been his. His eyes were bright blue. Looking at him, Dahyun was reminded of Helen. She threw a blade of anger and drove it into his kneecap. 

The fairy stumbled, shrieking at the heat of the weapon. 

Dahyun managed to stand again and took back what remained of the love she’d used. It helped. She made a short coil of calm and wrapped it around the fae’s throat. She remembered his name then. He was Helen's brother.

Orrin slumped back in her arms. Dahyun let him fall. 

That was when she felt it. A sharp pain in her mind. Red filled her vision. Then grey, black, and dark blue. They flooded into her mind at such speeds. She couldn’t block enough of them. They weren’t from her, but the girls. 

She heard their cries. 

Then the flow stopped, but Dahyun couldn’t move. 

She had fallen to the floor again. She hadn’t fallen into any emotional coma, but a proper thought was impossible to form. 

The emotional world was far too saturated. She couldn’t push it away without encountering a surge of heat or cold. She couldn’t find her calm or sadness. She was powerless. 

Black was drawn away from her, as well as the red. It was too pointed. The extraction devices could not discriminate. This was the work of an emotional fae. There had been a traitor. 

Each foreign emotion was taken away, save for grey. Her relief of being able to think properly vanished when fear began to lace its way into her heart. It was strengthened by the fear that came from Tzuyu.

Dahyun stood. Her body protested. The emotions that ran through her blood helped with the pain, but they did not remove the shock that had entered her limbs. Tremors took hold of her now as well, but she saw where the emotions were going. They each had their own talisman. 

Those talismans were held by one person. Someone she recognised.

“Rila?” Her voice was quiet in her ears. Maybe this was a misunderstanding. Perhaps she’d just taken the emotions away. 

Yet she held the talismans from which those emotions had come. They had first gone to the girls. And then towards Dahyun. But it couldn’t be. They had to be controlling her. 

“Dahyun.” Rila nodded, her eyes not giving away any malice. “Your connection to the vampires is one that can be easily exploited.” 

Dahyun tried to see if there was any magic in Rila’s mind. Perhaps she would see the presence of a mental fae. Perhaps she would find a tie to Yrest. 

She found nothing. The revelation yanked at the red inside of her. The anger that had been seething in her since she was first captured. It began to enter her blood. 

Though she could not see it within herself, Dahyun called on her calm and sadness. She pushed it into her blood. She couldn’t afford being incapacitated now. Not yet. 

Then one of the vampires spoke. “Get rid,” Jihyo began, but her voice was strained, “of it.” It sounded as though the words hurt to say. 

Dahyun looked for Yrest, finding her near Tzuyu. The blue-eyed vampire was still wrapped in fear. Her eyes were glazed over. Limits were being reached. 

“She won’t do that,” Rila said. “Not ever, correct?” 

She looked at the vampires then. All their eyes locked were on her. There was too much fear in the emotional world, so she could not see their emotions. And yet she felt them still. The sadness that bound them sent her further pulses of fear and rage. Those emotions did not help her state of mind. Would it be the cause of her being overwhelmed? Not yet.

“Dahyun,” she heard Sana whisper, “do it.” It was visible from where she stood. Her eyes were purple. 

Dahyun looked to Yrest. Shock was placating some of her rage. She wanted to ask how Rila had helped them. _Why_ she had helped them. Would those be answers she wanted to hear now?

Then she saw fear go from Rila to Tzuyu, tightening the grip it already had on her.

Tzuyu screamed. Dahyun felt a part of her break.

She saw Teresa’s eyes flood with grey. She saw her lying motionless on the floor. She couldn’t let any of them succumb to that state. 

Dahyun reached out and took the fear that was wrapped around Tzuyu. The cold nearly made her recoil. Then she drew on the talisman it was connected to. Then the emotions were torn from Dahyun’s grasp. 

It was as though a band had snapped. Dahyun felt the fear hang in the air for a long moment. Then it lunged for her. 

Dahyun screamed. She tried to force the fear out, watching as scraps of grey fell to the floor, making small cracking noises as they did. 

Then they disappeared before her eyes. She heard the others cry out. 

“Stop.” Dahyun looked up, seeing how Rila’s eyes were locked on the girls, the grey talisman in her hands. She felt the pulses of fear from the eight girls. “Enough.” She reached out for it in the emotional world, took hold of the fear, and forced it into Rila’s mind. 

The effort to do so tore at her mind. The cold in her surged. She tried to bring a warm emotion to the forefront. The only one that she could draw on was anger. 

She let a red dagger grow from her hand, throwing it at Rila.

The grey fear had been pushed away. It flowed back into Tzuyu. Then into Dahyun. 

The blade was deflected as well. 

Dahyun threw another. This time she coated red with black. 

Deflected.

She made her fear into several daggers at once. The action stung. 

She threw them all. Vaguely, she felt Yrest trying to take hold of her mind. She gave her grief. 

One blade hit its mark. It struck Rila in the chest. 

A cry sounded. The fear around Dahyun ceased. 

Then she was thrown back. Something had pierced her neck. Ice spread from it and into her blood. It met the anger already in her blood. 

Dahyun sobbed. It was a blade of grief. She could not pull it out. She tried to stand, only succeeding in getting to her knees. Moving hurt. 

There was silence. Dahyun could only feel shock, fear, and loss. All of it came from the girls. She wished it would stop. 

Then those emotions began to fade, as did the anger from Rila’s betrayal, the worry for the girl’s safety. She watched them leave her. With them went the relief she’d felt after finding the girls. 

“Stop,” Dahyun rasped. “Please.” 

She tried to take them back, to bury the emotions she still had. 

Then she heard something shatter. A part of her felt numb. Then the pain came. It grew.

Dahyun couldn’t even scream. 

A cold emotion came to her. It numbed her, making the pain a distant twinge. Among the emotions that left her, black flowed towards her. It settled within her. coaxing her to let go. 

She wanted nothing more than to fall away. She could let the grief overcome her. 

Then everything stopped.

Dahyun became aware of being more in the physical world than out of it. The blade was no longer in her neck. 

She saw blood dripping onto the floor, onto her hands. It was bright red, but held slivers of black. Her body burned. Her mind ached. If she tried to control another emotion, she was sure it would fall apart. 

She could still move, but each of her limbs burned with either ice or fire. If she had to fight, she would not be able to. 

As she looked up to see the person in front of her, she saw Tzuyu behind her. She leaned against the bars. Her eyes were blue a nd grey. 

“You might have killed our kin,” Yrest said. “But you did not leave them in any of those states.” She spoke English. She wanted the girls to hear.

Dahyun met the fae’s gaze. Was it concern that she saw there? She held no talismans. Only Rila did. 

Dahyun tried to speak, but only a whine escaped her.

“You may choose,” Yrest continued. “Return to a state of emptiness, but without the protection that let you escape it.” She looked to Rila. The fae held the device that took emotions. 

Distantly, Dahyun saw red rising within her. She let it seep out from her fingers, vaguely feeling its heat trickle into her blood. 

“Or you give up the emotions that protect you. In either case, your people go free,” Yrest then looked to the girls, “I promise you that.” 

Dahyun closed her eyes, trying to take the emotional world into view. It was painful, but she needed to see. 

She saw Yrest’s mind. She saw grief that belonged to the fae, but also that which Dahyun had given her. There was also a great amount of anger, regret, and sadness.

There was little in common with the minds of those who had captured Dahyun and Teresa. There was still much pride, but it had been driven away by the other emotions. 

The sight convinced Dahyun of one thing. She was going to let them go. 

_You may choose_. 

Emptiness or being consumed. 

Dahyun did not want to feel empty ever again. But to be consumed by grief or fear. Would it be forever? Or only a short time? 

She tried to ask, but the only word that came out was, “how?”

“You will be freed from both,” said Yrest. “Gerst is soon to return. You will have the mercy you gave the rest then." 

Dahyun took a breath. She felt the difficulty of it, the tears in her eyes. She felt the emptiness that had returned to her. It had grown. Once she chose, this feeling would not last long either. 

She dug in her mind and found what remained of her love and happiness. Rila had already begun to take it. That she would do such a thing—Dahyun felt her anger surge, but also sorrow. 

She didn't want to look at her, but she had to. 

Dahyun opened her eyes. She found the one who glowed with curiosity, who had worked with her for years. She met Rila's eyes. 

“Do you,” Dahyun began, “blame me for Teresa’s death?” 

Rila stiffened. There was shock, regret, anger, and grief. She said nothing.

“It was not her reason,” Yrest said. There was a different edge to her voice. It sounded like pity. 

“I do not,” Dahyun took another breath, “need to hear it.”

She let the breath leave her. She found what she had searched for. In the emotional world, she saw the purple and green come to the forefront. She began to push them away. 

Warmth coursed through her. She found comfort in the fact that the girls still possessed their love and happiness. She found comfort in knowing that there were pieces of green and purple that had been caused by her. 

She took the emotions that bound her to the girls and let some of it into the emotional world. She watched the green and purple tendrils fall from her fingers. 

Knowing that Rila and Yrest would be too focused on what they would do next, Dahyun sent the rest of the green and purple within her through the emotional world. 

It was stopped before it could get far. Then cold seeped into her. Quickly. Rila’s doing. 

Her mind was seized first. Black and grey filled her vision. The rest of the warmth was drowned by ice. 

Someone screamed. Several people. She felt their pain. Their fear. It was swept towards Dahyun as well. 

_Stop_ , she thought. 

Dahyun closed her eyes again. She felt the grief start to take hold. She saw the faces of those she had killed. Then fear joined it. 

Pain flooded her chest. It pierced her mind. 

She didn’t resist.

_______

Momo watched as one eye turned black and the other grey. She heard her scream. The sound was strangled by a sob. Her hair turned black. Her skin turned grey. 

Then Dahyun fell. 

The smell of rot was overpowering. It was joined by that of winter. It wasn’t just the smell of snow or ice, but of the air. Breathing it in put a chill in her lungs. 

“Her end is paid, and so is ours,” Yrest said. “There can be peace.” 

The words clawed at Momo. She felt the cold in her give way to fire. 

Something inside her snapped. She could move again. 

She called ice to her, launching it at them both, aiming for their hearts. 

There was a sharp crack. The bars of the stone cage crumbled.

She was in front of Rila in an instant, but something drove into her side before she could do anything. Cold took hold of her instantly. 

Momo froze. She heard Sana scream. 

Momo felt her limbs stop working and how her mind ceased to be under control. She was taken back to the first time she’d been like this. Dahyun had nearly been lost then. Not she had been. And Momo couldn’t even avenge her. 

“She gave herself up.” Rila said. “She will not be suffering long.” 

“She shouldn't have had to in the first place,” Nayeon hissed. Tears streamed down her face. There was no compulsion in her voice. Another thing they were barred from doing. 

“I knew the people she killed. I know they were wrong to do what they did, but I also know how much they suffered,” Yrest said. “The one condition was that she meet a similar fate.” When she looked back at them, her eyes were sad. “You can always end it. Dahyun did so for them.” 

_End it_. 

Because it was irreversible. It ended when Dahyun was dead. And if the past was anything to go by, that was deemed better than the state she was currently in. But Momo couldn’t imagine doing anything like that. Not ever.

Momo tried to move. She tried to summon something. Anything. Rila was less than a metre away from her. Dahyun was behind her. She couldn’t close to the distance to either of them.   


She tried again. Pain erupted in her mind, stopping her from doing what she so desperately wanted to do. She couldn’t do anything. She could only look.

“Stop struggling,” Yrest hissed. “If you try to take your revenge, all of you will die.” Her eyes were glassy.

None of the other fae had woken up yet. It was only Yrest who held them all at bay. 

_Those who are after me possess years of knowledge that can be used against any creature. Centuries of your lives will be reduced to nothing._

Dahyun had told them about the fae’s power. She had only meant Yrest then. She had not known that Rila would have joined her. 

“So grieve. Part with her and leave this to be a dark year in your immortal lives,” Yrest said. “As it will be in mine.” 

Momo’s vision began to turn black. Consciousness left her. The last thing she knew before she fell was that the scent of winter and death had strengthened. 

When she woke, the air was suffocating. 

Momo straightened, her head spinning as soon as she did so. She looked around to see that the others were waking up as well. 

Someone was gasping for air. Momo looked to see Tzuyu hugging her knees. She was sobbing, wincing with each breath.

The influence of the fae on them was gone. 

The fae. 

Dahyun. 

Momo looked for her. She saw her limp form a few metres away. The blood around her body hadn’t dried. The blood wasn’t just red. She saw black and grey threads in it. 

“Dahyun?” Momo gathered the fairy in her arms. “Please wake up.” She wasn’t sure if there was any compulsion in her voice. She wondered if that could reach her. “Please.” 

There was no response. She was freezing to the touch. Her skin was grey, but had swathes of black along it. Tears seeped out of her closed eyes. The scent of winter rose. Dahyun’s breathing slowed. As did her heart.   


For a moment, Momo thought it was going to stop. The blood flowing from her neck ceased. 

Then Sana was beside her. She took hold of Dahyun’s hand.  


When Momo looked up, she saw that Sana’s face was streaked with tears. It wasn’t like the witch attack. The terror didn’t fade this time. It was only joined by pure pain. And with each breath it increased. The scent of mountains and forests had disappeared.   


Because Dahyun was gone. 

“They’re gone,” Chaeyoung said. “There’s no trace of them anywhere.” 

“They just vanished?” Jeongyeon asked. Her voice shook just as much as Chaeyoung’s. 

“We,” Momo stammered, “we have t-to heal her.” She couldn’t see her face. Now her eyes saw singed clothes. She looked away when she caught sight of her burns. 

“Momo,” Nayeon said, “we can’t.” Her eyes were pale blue. "She can't stay like this." 

She shook her head. Then she saw Dahyun’s bag. It lay a few metres away. Most of it was charred. 

In the next moment, Sana was digging around in it. She drew out a school uniform. Out of it tumbled several vials. All of them varying shades of green. 

Then Sana was back. Her hands trembled as she uncorked two vials. 

Momo made Dahyun sit up. Her hands hung at her sides. She was still so cold. 

Sana poured both into Dahyun’s mouth. A few seconds passed. Then she swallowed. Momo wanted to believe it wasn’t just a reflex.

“We have to get out of here,” Tzuyu said. She was still trembling. “The emotions they used against us. They’re still all here.” One of her eyes was still grey. 

An arm went around Momo’s shoulders.

Momo wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t. She remembered holding another in her arms. Their eyes had been open, staring into nothing. They hadn't been breathing.   


Momo focused on Dahyun’s breathing then—on her heartbeat. She was still alive. 

“Come on,” Mina said in her ear. “Stand up.” 

Momo did. Dahyun’s head tilted back, her black and grey hair dangling down. Sana pushed it back up. 

Tzuyu knew the way out, but the memories were hard for her to tap into. Her eyes were a deep blue and grey. They welled up continuously. She kept blinking. Nayeon had her arm around her the entire way.

The smell of rot didn’t lessen as they emerged from the underground area. It almost seemed to strengthen. Dahyun was getting colder. Momo couldn’t do anything to keep her warm. 

Once they were out, she realised where they were. In the forest. Not too far from home. The fae had just made this place. Just like that. 

_If you take your revenge, all of you will die_. 

Maybe she had been right. Yrest had been able to take over all of them. That had been one person. One set of abilities. She didn’t even know what else the elemental fae could do. Each had spent centuries devoting themselves to increasing their power. Yrest had showed them all what that meant. 

When they got to the house, Momo felt at ease. The scent of forests had strengthened. 

“She was here,” Nayeon said. Her voice sounded thick. 

They went to her room. All of them. 

When Jihyo opened the door, she gasped. “Different room.” The door snapped shut. She led them to another room. Momo’s. 

Momo went in first. The room smelled faintly of flowers and fruit. On the bed were two objects. One was green, the other purple. 

“Do you think that,” Sana started. 

“I don’t know,” Momo said. “But we should get them off.” What if they just made things worse? What if it was some sort of final taunt from the other fae? 

Chaeyoung was the first to act. She moved moved the covers, not touching the emotions themselves. They made light thuds on the floor. 

Momo set Dahyun down. Tears still flowed from her eyes. Her heart had gone from slow to fast the entire way here. Now it was quick. Blood had started to seep out. There was no red in it. It was just grey and black. 

She couldn’t look. She turned away, feeling ashamed as she did. 

Sana came in then, holding a roll of bandages, a towel, and disinfectant. She tended to her wounds.  


The scent of winter was returning. It overpowered that of forests. Momo had to leave the room. She felt worse as she did. But she couldn't stay.   


Dahyun was alive, but she was lost. None of them truly understood what that meant. Only that they couldn't do anything to help her. 

Momo went down the stairs. She saw Jihyo and Tzuyu in the kitchen. Jihyo had the younger girl in a tight hug. She was murmuring softly to her. 

Mina was looking at what was on the kitchen counter. The timeline Tzuyu had made. She folded up the paper and tossed it to the side. There were several papers underneath, but Momo saw how her eyes locked on one. She grabbed it, unfolded it, and was silent. 

The moment lasted for a long time. 

Then she held it out to Momo, her eyes welling up again.   


Momo took it. Then Mina disappeared.   


Each letter had a slight curve to it. 

_I’ve never written a letter before. We never needed such a thing. But now I do._

_While I write this, I feel what they are giving Tzuyu. I felt what they gave all of you as well. For that, I am sorry. When I left, I thought I had prevented this from happening. I believed that they would only try to search your minds, but quickly give up once they realised that they wouldn't get what they wanted. Whatever they tried to do to control you, I am sorry for that as well._

_I know very well that you are the lure for a trap. I would like to assure you that none of you are responsible for what they will do. I placed the connection in your minds. Sadness catches at many emotions, but the net I gave each of you also brought the worst emotions to me. It was to prevent your emotions, or those of others, from being used against you._

_I am aware that you will want to take your revenge on those who took you. You should not. What happens today is how they take their revenge on me._   


_I killed nine people the day that I escaped. I am responsible for more. You may say that I do not deserve this, but others, as well as myself, say that I have been spared from worse._   


_In my own room, there is a shard of fear. This is the fear that I found in the house. It belonged to Teresa and myself. I believe I will be gone by the time you read this. If I am not dead, but lost, you must still destroy it._

_The calm I left is my own. I hope it will be a way to ensure this house remains a place of solace for you, just as it was for me._   


_No amount of words can express how thankful I am to you. You helped me when you hadn't needed to, you forgave my lies (I hope you can forgive my last one), you let me learn about your world, and you helped me to feel emotions I thought I would never feel again._

_For all that you have done, I can never repay you, though I hope my last gift to you will help you continue on with your lives._   


_In each of your rooms I have left emotions that can counter those that were given to you._

_I am deeply sorry for all the pain that I have brought into your lives._   


_Goodbye._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very torn on how long to make this chapter. There were points throughout it that would have been good places to 'cut off', but I couldn't do it. Not only did I find that very unfair to you all, especially at this point in the story, but also because ending it at any earlier part of the chapter would have defeated the point of this being the climax (at least of this specific story). This is not the end. 
> 
> I hope that you got through this very long chapter alright. It was extremely difficult to write. I rewrote the last part several times for the aforementioned reasons. 
> 
> There was a lot in this chapter. I hope it wasn't completely overwhelming. If there are any questions, feel free to ask them. Some ambiguities will be answered in the next chapters, but others might just be my overlooking something. 
> 
> Nevertheless, thank you for reading. This story always meant a lot to me, but now it, and especially the characters, has come to be extremely close to my heart.
> 
> See you next chapter. 


	23. Try

They had nothing for burns in the house. They hadn’t had antiseptic or bandages in it either, unless you counted a mandatory first aid kit. They hadn't had any of those things until Dahyun had come to the house—until she got hurt by the werewolf. That werewolf had been controlled by a witch. A witch who had been bought with the promise of emotions. Emotions that had been supplied by the fae. Against one of their own. 

All that. And it still wasn’t enough for those same fae. They hadn’t stopped with tormenting and chasing someone. They'd had to end by making her like this. 

Sana had finished cleaning the wound on her neck. She didn’t know how there was so much blood in her. How had she survived a blow like that to the neck?

_I may not heal as you do, but I’m not human._

No. She wasn’t. That meant that Sana didn’t know how much help was too much. She didn’t have any spells that could heal her. Not anymore. She didn’t even have cream for the burns. Some of them she could soak in water, but that was it. 

Her skin was still so cold, but wasn’t shivering. The flow of tears had also stopped, but that didn't mean that the pain had. Sana wiped her face with a lukewarm towel. 

All of the illusions had fallen away. The scars travelled up her neck, the knife having pierced part of it, and her face. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed with shadows. She'd gotten much thinner in only a few weeks. She hadn’t been eating much. She hadn’t been sleeping. 

Then there was a sound. 

“Dahyun?” Sana leant forward, dropping the cloth. 

Tears began to seep out again. Sana wiped them away. The grey blotches on her face began to move around the black. Like ink through water. 

The door opened. In came Nayeon. Her eyes flowed blue. 

“We can’t keep her like this,” she said. 

Sana looked at her. Her mouth was pressed into a line. 

_End it._

“No.” She couldn’t bear that thought. “We can’t. She’s still alive.” If Sana hadn’t imagined it, she was trying to talk.

“Sana, I can only feel a piece of what she’s going through,” Nayeon shook her head, “it’s too much.” 

“We’re not doing that.”

“What do you think Gerst is gonna say?” Fresh tears welled up in Nayeon's eyes. “His daughter went through this same thing.” 

And she was killed to stop her suffering.

“Wait,” a soft voice said, “just wait.” Mina came into the room, the shards of purple and green set upon a towel. “These are safe,” she said. “Dahyun left them for all of us.”

“How do you know?” asked Nayeon. 

“She left a note,” Momo appeared at her side. “Said they could counter the emotions they gave to us.” She came forward to the other side of the bed. Gingerly, she picked up both. Her eyes shone green and purple briefly, but she let them go soon after. Momo blinked once. Twice. Her eyes turned pink.

“And what if we make it worse?” Nayeon looked at Dahyun. “She’s going through cycles of what we had.” She chewed on her lip. “Much stronger.” 

“How do you know?” Jihyo asked. 

Nayeon shook her head. “I don’t know, but I can feel every time it changes, every time it flares up.” Her eyes closed. “And I see flashes. Of the fairies who were grieved for and,” her voice caught, “a fear of pain, of emptiness.” 

“She said these would help us,” Momo said. “So they'll help her.”

“Just,” Mina came to Sana’s side, “we’ll try this first.” She gently placed both shards into Dahyun’s hand. 

Her fingers closed around them immediately. Sana watched as they began to disappear. She held her breath. 

Another sound. A whimper. She hadn’t imagined it. 

“Can you hear me?” 

Her eyes fluttered. Below the lids were flashes of black and grey. The same colours in her hair were moving. Pulsing. 

“Momo,” Nayeon said. “Don’t give her the rest.” 

“She’s waking up,” Momo replied. “That has to mean something.” 

“The memories are stronger.” Tzuyu had come into the room. Her eye was still grey. “I just saw what Teresa looked like. What she looked like after,” she faltered. She closed her eyes. “She looked like Dahyun does now.”

And Dahyun had ended her life. So that she wouldn’t suffer. 

“But was she awake?” Sana asked. 

Another low cry. The smell of rot strengthened. 

“Was she awake?” Sana repeated. Dahyun had said she’d given up the emotions _before_ Teresa was overcome by fear. What happened if you did the same, but afterwards?

“They said Gerst was on his way,” Jihyo pursed her lips, “I say we try it. If things get worse, we get her to sleep.”

“By telling her to?” Nayeon asked. 

“Through one of her potions,” Jihyo replied. “She used it on one and they dropped like a stone. I remember what it looked like. Pretty sure there’s another in her pack.” 

Jeongyeon came in. “There was.” 

The vial held a pale blue liquid. Was it mixed with calm? 

Sana didn’t want to, but she let go of Dahyun’s hand. She went straight into her room and took the two shards. She gasped when warmth flooded her body. She hadn’t felt it since she’d left. Not really.  


Sana saw flashes of their faces. Then she saw just her own. She felt a tingling sensation on her lips. There was confusion, but also curiosity, and joy. 

Then the images started to disappear and she scrambled to keep them. Her eyes were damp. If she breathed, she could smell oranges and daffodils. Her heart raced. 

“It’s hard, I know,” Momo said. She looked down at the shards. They were on a towel now. “Are you sure?”

Sana nodded. “We have to try.” Her eyes fell to the floor. “But,” she started, “what if we’re hurting her more?” She still felt warm from holding the emotions. "What do we do then?"  


Dahyun had given up this warmth and so much more for them. But it was for exactly that reason that they had to do something to help her.   


_End it._   


Momo looked torn. “I think we know the answer to that,” she said. “But I won’t be able to.” 

Sana wouldn’t either. 

Going back into the room, her lungs felt cold just by breathing. When the scent of winter reached her nose, she wanted to leave the room immediately.

There was a sob. 

Where Dahyun lay, the bandage on her neck was starting to turn black. She breathed with difficulty. Her heart pumped erratically. Tendrils of grief and fear fought over her skin and hair. 

Nayeon and Tzuyu sat on one side, Mina on the other. On a towel were ten shards of emotion. One of the violet pieces was larger than the rest. 

“Tzuyu,” Sana said. “She left more of that for a reason.” 

The youngest shook her head. “If this could work, we need everything.” By her expression, she was still deep in a state of shock. “And if you’re going to tell me I need it too. That’s not true.” 

Dahyun cried out again. Sana clenched her fists. 

Momo gave Mina the shards. Then she was back at Sana’s side. She put an arm around her shoulders. 

They watched as Mina placed the different shards in her hands. The same thing happened: tightened grips before the shards melted away.   


Dahyun tensed. Her breath hitched. Then came the larger piece of violet. It also disappeared. 

There was no visible change. Not even any change to the air. 

“Is something different?” Jeongyeon asked. She stood behind Nayeon, brushing a hand through the eldest's hair. 

“The memories are stronger,” Nayeon said. A shake of the head. “I can even smell fire.” Then she frowned. She looked to Tzuyu, a question in her eyes. 

Then a voice spoke. “ _Ajha_.” The word was fully of pain. Fresh tears appeared. 

Sana went to her side. “It’s okay,” she whispered. She kept trying to dry her eyes, gently rub her thumbs over her cheeks. 

“Stop.” She spoke Korean. Did she know they were there? 

Sana pulled away. 

“Please,” Dahyun sobbed, “End it.” She curled onto the bed. The colours on her skin continued to writhe. The scent of rot was overpowering. 

Sana wanted to shake her head. To tell her that she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t get a word out.

She still wasn’t sure if Dahyun knew they were there, but she’d spoken in a language they knew. She had to know they were. That made it worse.

“Dahyun,” Tzuyu murmured. “You’re safe. You’re with us,” she said. “You’re home. Not there.” 

“Where’s the calm?” Nayeon asked. 

Jihyo left the room. 

Dahyun’s heart rate had spiked. Sana felt each beat in her head. 

Then Dahyun screamed. 

Tzuyu recoiled. She left the room.

The scent of death filled the room. Sana felt her chest constrict. The air around her became cold. Too cold. 

She saw Dahyun, her mouth still open in a scream, her eyes wide. Her pupils, irises, and the whites had disappeared. In their place were spheres of black and grey.

The fear didn’t let Sana move. Grey tinged her vision. Her mind felt like it was splitting apart. Then she felt pain along her throat. She felt the blood escape from her. She was dying. 

Then her chest grew heavy and her eyes began to burn. Black joined grey. It pulled her down further into the fear. She saw a pale grey face. She felt a pressure in her hands. Right before a knife sank into someone else's chest.

Then it all vanished, replaced by a deep sense of calm. No scent belonged to it. Sana felt at ease, but she was still cold. 

“Get out,” someone said. Gerst appeared at the door, his brow furrowing the moment he passed the door. “All of you leave.” His eyes were a pale grey. 

“Are you going to kill her?” Momo stood. Her stance was protective. 

Sana joined her. They could trust him. They knew that, but he would think he _had_ to kill her. Sana wasn’t sure if she could let that happen. What if they could still save her? 

“What have you done?” He stared at Dahyun. 

“Can we give her this?” Nayeon asked. She held the sleeping potion. “Will that help her?”

Gerst only looked at her. "I do not know."  


Jeongyeon held Dahyun on the bed. The fairy struggled, shouting in another language, the desperation clear in her voice. Nayeon forced her head back and poured the draught in. 

Sana fought the urge to look away. Her stomach twisted. 

Dahyun began to scream again. Nayeon clamped her mouth shut, her own eyes full of pain. 

Then coils of blue wrapped around Dahyun’s waist and arms. It was light blue. Calm.  


Dahyun still struggled, but the movements were slowed. 

“How is she awake?” Gerst’s eyes were the same colour. 

“I heard her,” Sana said. “Before we did anything.”   


Dahyun’s grey and black eyes drooped. She stopped moving. Her breathing eased. 

“She left us a letter,” Momo said. “Telling us that she left pieces of her own happiness and love for us to find. To help us against what—what—” she broke off. 

“And then what happened?” Gerst's eyes were on the space in front of all of them, the look in them distant. Slowly, they began to turn red. 

“We gave her the first piece,” Mina said. “She started moving.” Her eyes locked on Dahyun then. “And with the rest, she started speaking.” 

“Is it still there?” Momo asked. “Or did it disappear?”

“I can see it,” Gerst said. Then he winced. “It wraps around her, taking the smallest parts of both away.” He closed his eyes. “But it is too much. It isn’t enough.” 

Those words hung in the air. The silence was broken by Dahyun’s breath becoming shaky. The scent of fear rose again. 

“Can we make it enough?” Sana asked. “Can you give her mine?” 

“I do not know how much I would need to take from you,” he replied. “And I will not.” He opened his eyes. “Your emotions may be consumed. You cannot risk losing those emotions for one life.” Black seeped into his irises. “Not when that life may not be worth living itself.” 

“You don’t know that,” said Momo, voice growing harsh. 

“Do you think I let my daughter die based on what I believed?”

She deflated then. “I’m sorry.” 

Gerst's gaze softened. “All of you have known grief. You have seen how it feels to know that of another, as well as the fear of another.” 

A pause. 

Sana knew what he was trying to prepare them for. She didn’t want to hear it. Dahyun had opened her eyes. 

“Would you please let me try?” Sana asked. “She gave those emotions up to save our lives. Let me do the same to try and save hers.” 

_At the very least, they kept familial love, so they were never truly empty._

Maybe that was the risk. Emptiness. But if it brought Dahyun back and freed her from the emotions that were plaguing her right now, it would be worth it. Sana had to try. Even if the chances of it not working were—

“Take mine too,” Momo said, breaking Sana from her thoughts. “That reduces the risk of losing them all, right?” 

Gerst frowned. “She possesses the grief of several, as well as the fear of herself, Teresa, and more.” 

Nayeon spoke then. “If it works even a little bit, then you take some from,” her eyes fell to Dahyun, “me as well.” 

The others chimed in agreement. Tzuyu was back, her grey eye still visible. She also agreed. 

“You don’t understand what you are giving up,” Gerst shook his head again, “this is not the feeling of love, but the true emotion of it. Dahyun remembered her family, but she did not love them anymore.” 

“So start by taking some from each of us,” Mina replied. “You keep adding until she’s out of it.” 

Silence. The fairy wrung his hands. He looked between all of them. Then his eyes stayed on Tzuyu.   


“Either you will take this, or I take nothing from you.” He held out a shard of purple that was the size of his hand. 

Tzuyu looked at it. “Who’s is it?” 

“Mine,” he said. His eyes were also purple. “It is the love I feel for my daughter.”  


She shook her head. “I’m not taking that.” 

“If you want me to do this,” he said. “Then you will accept this. I must know what happens with the emotions after I give them.” A pause. “This does not take everything. I would not have enough to contribute myself if I gave you all that you needed.” He was going to give up emotions for Dahyun as well. 

_I had one daughter. And two others who I love as dearly._

Tzuyu’s lip trembled as she nodded. The purple melted away. Tzuyu gasped, her eyes turning a dull shade of the same colour. Then it faded. One of her eyes was still grey. The corners of her lips tugged up, but tears appeared in the same moment. 

Gerst cleared his throat. “The emotions in her do not fade.” His eyes turned purple again before they lightened. His expression was slow to change, but Sana recognised it as one of hope. It was fragile, but it was enough. “If she returns to us, she will not be the same.” 

“You said it yourself,” Jihyo went to Tzuyu, wrapping her arms around her, “she was returning to herself before. She can do it again.” 

His expression grew sombre. “She may not want to.” 

_Please. End it._

Sana closed her eyes. She had to believe this would work. That Dahyun could come back. That she _would_ come back. Even if that took longer, they could wait.   


She would wait. 

“We have to try,” Nayeon said. The hesitation in her voice was plain, but Sana knew she would be feeling the same hope. A hope that when Dahyun opened her eyes, they wouldn’t be filled with those emotions. That she wouldn’t be stuck in a cycle of grief and fear. 

Gerst did not respond. Then Sana felt a warmth fill her chest. She saw a brief flash of her family, of her past coven, and of her family now. Then she was left with a lingering memory of Dahyun smiling up at her, her eyes green and purple. She felt a lightness in her chest and a pressure on her lips. Then it was gone. 

_____

_“Sadness protects,” Dahyun rasped. “You cannot touch me because of the sadness in my mind.” Her body might have been intact, but she could still feel each blow, each gash. The terror of dying lingered. She shivered beneath its influence._

_“So give it to us,” the fae knelt down in front of her, “and all of this can stop.” They held a knife to her throat. Just the cool touch of the metal caused fear to surge._

_“Let her go,” Dahyun said._

_Teresa was only a small distance away. Though her wounds were healed, blood still surrounded her. She was held by a chain of ice. Another fae stood beside her, the terrible contraption in his hands. One that could take their emotions with a whim, subjecting them to the nightmare that was emptiness._

_There was little she wouldn’t do to avoid experiencing it. But she had to endure this. They would not be able to touch their core emotions. Once Teresa and Dahyun felt more, they could still escape. She just had to try and endure whatever they subjected her to next. They would not kill her. Not yet._

_Dahyun called on the fear within her. She forced it to become a dagger within the emotional world. She made it physical and drove it into the fae’s chest. The pain of the effort tore into her mind. She screamed._

_The fear was taken away from her, as was the relief, and the anger. Then a knife slit her throat._

_____

End it. She cannot be saved. 

_The words clawed at Dahyun. Her hands still wore the blood of other fae. She wanted to take the lives of more. Those who had let this conflict escalate were still alive. She could do it._

_And she couldn’t. She felt shame just at the thought of wanting to kill again. Lives had been ruined. She had killed her own people._

_She looked down at Teresa. Her skin was grey, as was her once vibrant green hair. She breathed quickly. Her heart pounded too fast. And yet she gave no sound from her. No matter how much Dahyun had screamed for her to wake up. Teresa was alive, but she was lost._

_Dahyun wanted to tell herself that this was what needed to happen. She wanted to believe that death would be a gift for Teresa. She couldn’t._

_What needed to happen was that she saved her. Teresa needed to open her eyes. Dahyun would take her fear. Dahyun would be the one who became trapped in the emotional world. Teresa would remain between both worlds._

_And yet she couldn’t save her. Teresa would never open her eyes. Dahyun had tried. And she had failed._   


_All that Dahyun could do now nwas end her suffering._

_Her hands shook as she raised the knife. It was one of her own calm. If there was any ease she could give Teresa in the moment just before her death, she would._

_“I’m sorry,” Dahyun whispered. Her vision became blurry. She blinked her tears away. The most potent emotion within her was anger. She drew it to the forefront, wincing as it burned her._

_She steadied her hands. Then she drove the knife into Teresa’s heart._

_Grief cleaved her into two as when the last beat passed. She sobbed as Teresa’s breath slowed to a halt._

_____

Momo was cold. No matter if she hugged her sides or ate something warm, she couldn’t get rid of this deep chill. She knew what she was missing, but she also felt pulses of warmth each time she thought of the other girls, of her. It was all so distant, as though a memory that she knew she had, but couldn't pinpoint any detail about it. The distance hurt.   


Gerst had refused to take everything. To fully take away all of the grief within her would require that. While they had protested, it was a matter where the fairy hadn’t doubted his decision. 

He had also sent them all out to the living room, saying that there was too much fear in the air upstairs. 

Momo wanted nothing more than to go to her room where Dahyun lay, to be there when she woke up from the state that had plagued her. 

Then there were steps. Each of them looked up. 

“I tried to take what did not belong to her.” Suspended in front of him were small pieces of grey and black. “But I could only take what was in the air.” Almost two thirds of the shards were put on the table, all grey. “These are from Teresa and the people Dahyun killed.” A pause. “That means they can be destroyed.” 

“And the rest?” Nayeon asked. 

“I will take them,” he said. “They are hers.” 

“No,” Sana stood, “not just you.” 

There were six shards, three black, three grey. 

“I’ll take the other two,” Momo said. 

“I don’t think you should. The memories attached,” Gerst paused, “you should not see them.”   


Sana shook her head. “Let us.” 

A moment passed. Black and grey spun in the air. Just looking at them made Momo uneasy. 

“She will take them back,” Gerst said. “Even if you don’t want her to, she will.” 

_I know_ , Momo thought. 

Then two shards hovered in front of her. They were smoking, small threads trying to escape before they were drawn back. Both looked fragile, almost ethereal. It was hard to believe that they held so much pain. 

Momo tried to keep her hand from trembling as she took hold of both. 

Ice drove itself deep into her thoughts. She could feel it spread. From it came the faint sounds of screams, echoes of pain on her throat and in her mind, and a deeply rooted ache in her chest. 

She saw a new face. The person had hair the colour of emeralds that stopped just below her shoulders. Her eyes were the same colour, complimenting her tan skin. Then Momo heard her cry out. Everything turned grey. A scream tore from her own chest. 

Then she was torn from the memory. She lay on the floor, a cold sheen of sweat on her forehead. Someone had gathered her in their arms. She shivered. 

“It’s okay,” Nayeon murmured. 

“Did,” Momo stammered, “did you see that t…too?” 

“Yes,” she said. “And,” Nayeon faltered. Then she didn’t speak, just held Momo tighter. 

She saw Sana wake up. Her eyes were a deep violet. She looked around, as though unsure where she was. When Jihyo appeared by her side, Sana sank into her arms, her heart racing. 

Warmth began to flow into Momo. She saw purple to enter her vision. She felt the fear being drawn out of her—no, it was fading away. Then the scent of winter came. 

“Dahyun,” Gerst said. His voice sounded gentle. “Don’t.” 

“You had no right,” another voice said. “I would've thought all of you would have allowed me to die.”

The influx of warmth strengthened. It had gotten rid of the cold within her, but Momo still felt uneasy. They hadn't thought of the sadness in each of their minds. They hadn't thought that Dahyun would feel those emotions as well. 

She looked up to see Dahyun at the foot of the stairs. Her skin still held grey and black patches. Her eyes were filled with the same colours, but her irises were at least visible. 

Dahyun was standing. She was awake. Momo felt a burst of joy, but she didn’t move from the spot. Something in Dahyun’s eyes kept her there. Looking into them, she felt anger and disappointment. 

None of the rest moved either. 

Gerst began to speak again, but in the other language. His tone was insistent, but never lost the gentleness to it. His eyes were green and dark blue. 

Dahyun replied quickly. Her eyes glanced at the rest of them, barely lingering before she looked back at the other fairy. She shook her head. 

The flow of warm emotions continued. 

Momo watched as Dahyun winced. 

Gerst spoke again. His eyes were turning purple as well. 

Dahyun's eyes fell on the table upon which the other emotions lay. There was a sharp sound.

Momo turned to see them shatter, then disappear. 

“Did you even think of the repercussions?” Dahyun asked. “When they learn I am still alive. That you brought me back?” Her gaze was almost angry, but she still wasn't looking at any of them. 

“They are forbidden from doing anything more,” Gerst said. “Boundaries were overstepped before the agreement, they were broken again afterwards.” 

“And what is there to prove that?” Dahyun sat down at the kitchen counter, closing her eyes. Then she tensed. The scent of rot rose. 

“The witch had been given amulets of your emotions as payment,” he said. “One was enough to prove it.” 

“Enough,” she repeated. “It is not enough for execution, nor perhaps for banishment. Will the knowledge be taken away?” Her eyes were still closed, her face still pulled into a grimace. 

“Yes,” Gerst said. “When we find them.” 

“Did you think you’d find a trail here?” Dahyun opened her eyes. The colours in them swirled wildly. “Did Rila tell you how to get me out?” She spat the words. 

“How would she know?” 

She stood. “I told her.” Her eyes fixed on Gerst’s. Momo couldn’t read anything from them. Then the wintry scent surged. Dahyun staggered as she tried to walk. 

Momo and Sana were at her side then. 

She looked up at them both, her expression blank. “Move.” The word was said without anger, nor with any warmth. 

“Are you leaving?” Sana asked. She wasn’t crying, but Momo saw that if Dahyun said yes, something would break in her. The same would happen to Momo. 

“No,” Dahyun replied. “But I need to be out of this house.” She walked past them. “Do not follow.” Then she left. The sound of her footsteps never faded, but she walked quickly. Away. 

No one said anything. They were all listening. 

The footsteps stopped. In the distance, Momo heard rustling. Then a sob. 

Nayeon stood then. 

Gerst shook his head. “You mustn’t go to her.” 

“She’s in pain,” Nayeon said. “She shouldn’t be going through that alone.” 

The words ‘not again’ were left unspoken. She could still hear Dahyun in the forest. 

“No,” he said. “She told me that she wished I would have told you not to save her. That I had never touched your emotions.” His eyes had gone from purple to dark blue. “She does not want to see you.” 

_She was in a state where little of her remained. Little good._

They had brought her back to that state.

And Dahyun hadn’t wanted to go back. The emotions that led to hope, to feeling safe somewhere—they were all gone. Whatever emotions could have made this bearable, she’d given up already. 

Momo wanted to ask if there was the chance that Dahyun would take the emotions back, but she knew the answer to that. 

_____

Dahyun’s body shook. There were no bouts between great heat and freezing cold, but between a great ache and uneasiness. Sometimes there would be a spike in pain or a bolt of fear, but it was nothing compared to how it had been while she had been stuck between grief and fear. 

The emptiness encompassed her being as though she had never left it. It was neither cold nor warm. It only drained her further. It was present in both worlds. If she was in the emotional world, she would see only blue, grey, and black. There was no humour, no curiosity and only wisps of love and happiness. 

And if she turned to the physical world, she could not appreciate its beauty. What faith she had regained in the forest was gone. It allowed some relief when it came to the calm hanging within it, but it was no longer a sanctuary. Each flicker of movement, each snap of a branch, caused her fear to spike. Even though she was safe, she was convinced she was not.

They had done it. Those overcome by emotion could be saved. And yet Dahyun wondered if it was better to have not been saved. Pieces of her had been given back, but they only served to remind her of all that she was still missing. Rila had taken Dahyun’s emotions before giving back the grief and fear. It made sure that if she was saved, she would still be lacking so very much. She was far from being whole. 

Rila. Dahyun lacked much of the fury from before. Instead sadness rose at her memory, as did grief and fear of what Rila was now capable of doing. Yet she could not find it in her to believe that Rila had done the things she had out of pure cruelty. 

Perhaps it was, or perhaps it wasn't. Dahyun should have looked for reasons, but finding them would not matter. She didn't want to know what they were. 

The mental fae would comb the minds of Rila, Yrest, and her people. They'd take the memories of the wrong knowledge and they would be allowed to live as normal. If Gerst accepted that Rila’s actions were her own and the others did as well, Rila would never be allowed to return to them. 

Dahyun’s sorrow increased then. Her people had ceased to be a home in the last years. She remembered how it had been before, but nothing in her saw that place as a home. She felt nothing of the feelings she had. She hardly even missed it. 

She closed her eyes. The same had happened here, yet it might have been worse. In the vampires' house, she could _feel_ the emotions that made it a home, but it wasn't one for her anymore.   


In the moments before she'd given them up, she had possessed the love that each of them felt for her. It had been overwhelming. She had known what it meant immediately. And known she'd needed to get rid of it. The emotions had not been changed, but they had been tainted. What she still held gave her warmth, but the emotions felt all the more fragile.

It was best if the girls did not see this state. Dahyun knew they were hurt, because of her actions. She was somewhat reassured by the lack of fear and grief in each of them, at least that which had been given to them. 

No. They would not see her like this. It would hurt them even more. She knew from the sadness and the worry that had come from each of them. There had also been such hope in all of them, a hope that Dahyun knew would break the moment they saw more of how she was now. Rather than being alone in this state, there were eight others who still loved her, while she felt only little of that love for them. They would sense that. 

She did not know how to explain it to them without causing them pain. How should she tell them that she had loved them _before_? That the sight of them no longer made her happy? That seeing them did not remind her of the weeks spent missing them? How was she supposed to tell them that she was not sure if that love would ever return? How could she tell them that she was no longer the person from before? 

The flow of questions stopped. They were not driven by curiosity, but something akin to confusion and concern. Dahyun watched those same emotions fade. She could barely be worried for a long time. 

Then an ache settled into her chest once again. As did the tightness in her stomach. Dahyun flinched and tried to pull away from it. She tugged at the physical world, trying to leave the emotional one. Then the thoughts slipped away from her mind. She dove in to the slumber willingly. It would be nothing like the one of fear and grief. If those emotions came, they would build slowly and not come in surges. She was reminded of her cowardice, but that was alright. It would not be for long, but she needed the escape. She lacked the strength to want to stay. 

_____

Nayeon felt Dahyun fade away. She lurched out of her seat, making everyone around her jump. Gerst had taken to sitting just outside their door. He still couldn’t tolerate being in a house for longer than a few hours. It left the question of how Dahyun had been able to be in a school and live in a house. 

“What is it?” Jihyo asked. 

Nayeon didn’t respond. She listened for a heartbeat, for a breath. Both were so slow. The fluctuation of fear and grief had slowed, but they still remained. She still didn’t know why the rest of them didn’t see what she felt. Only Tzuyu seemed to. 

She looked at the youngest, wondering then if she was imagining things. The girl nodded. 

Nayeon went out of the house, the rest following her. It was night. None of them had left the house. They’d drunk something, having found their hunger after the time under the fae’s control. Someone had put on a movie. It was still playing now. No one had watched it. 

Gerst was gone, but the scent of ice was going towards that of winter and rot. 

Nayeon followed. There was a slow rise in grief, but it only tugged at her chest. 

Dahyun lay against a tree, her head half way to the ground. She looked peaceful. 

“She is not sleeping,” Gerst said. “Not really.” 

“For how long?” Tzuyu asked. 

“Hard to say. I’m sure you’ve noticed the way that time changes under the influence of emotion?” 

_At home—among my family, an idea meant you wouldn’t see the person for hours. Sometimes days._

“We noticed,” Nayeon nodded, “is this a voluntary thing?” It was nowhere near to how it was before, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this was another form of Dahyun leaving.

Gerst only nodded. 

She saw the others deflate, but also the confusion. 

Dahyun's body would still be here, but her mind far away from reach. From what Nayeon had felt from the fairy, she could hardly blame her, but she didn’t want her doing this all alone. It shouldn’t have been like that last time, and it wasn’t supposed to be this time. If only she’d let them help. Or at least try to.

_____

Dahyun had been sleeping for two weeks. Nothing about her breathing had changed the entire time. The smell of winter and rot had eased. They could all breathe easy. Dahyun had escaped whatever torment the emotions—and the lack of others—had subjected her to. 

Yet Momo could not sit easy. Whenever she was home, she listened for a change in breath or heartbeat. She hoped for her to wake each time listened. She also hoped for neither to quicken. That would mean the emotions were back. That would mean she was suffering.  


She set down her bag and went upstairs. She almost knocked on Dahyun’s door, but she knew there’d be no answer. 

So she went in. 

The scent of mountains greeted her. Gerst had given Dahyun the sadness she'd kept in a vial. It was at the forefront of her mind, he’d said, and would protect whatever dreams she might have. Then he had gone, both to inform of the good news and to continue the search for the other fae. 

Momo had wondered if he would be resentful that Dahyun had had the opportunity to be saved when Teresa hadn’t had it, but he hadn’t been. He’d told them that leaving Teresa in that state for this long would have very likely driven her mad. Leaving someone in the state for even a day was risky.   


The fairy in question lay under the covers. She hadn’t even turned around in her sleep. She didn't move at all. 

She also didn’t move when Momo sat on the bed beside her. 

Her hair was still grey and black. Momo wanted to believe that her skin had gotten a silver sheen to it, but it was probably only the sunlight streaming in. She wanted to believe that Dahyun’s skin had gotten warmer, but that was also because of the sun. The hand that was under the covers still felt like ice. 

Momo ran a hand through Dahyun's hair, tucking strands behind pointed ears. She brushed her fingers across the girl's cheeks, as if the touches could somehow comfort her. Momo wanted to tell her how much she’d missed her—to tell her how sorry she was for causing her this pain. She knew what Dahyun would say. She remembered what Dahyun had said once before. 

_But I also know grief and shame very well. Well enough to know when they’re destructive. And they might be now._

She couldn’t have been more right. Dahyun's own grief and shame had led in part to this. She'd never forgiven herself for what happened, not for Teresa, not for the conflict itself. She didn’t see that it wasn't all her fault, especially not what happened to Teresa. 

Those emotions had blinded Dahyun. They had led to her not wanting to fight for her life. She hadn't wanted to prove that she was innocent, because she didn’t think she was—she thought she didn't deserve to be forgiven. And yet Gerst had forgiven her, while Rila had no right to hold Dahyun responsible for anything. The only one who thought Dahyun had any responsibility in Teresa’s death was Dahyun herself. 

Momo had felt the pain. She had _seen_ what Dahyun had done to save Teresa from suffering the fear any longer. She knew the sacrifices that Dahyun was willing to make. Those sacrifices almost entirely involved Dahyun bearing the brunt of the consequences. If it was in her control, she’d never let anyone else feel those consequences. And that had led to this. Dahyun had given up her emotions to help them and she wouldn’t take any of their emotions to help herself. 

Now she had plunged herself into a deep sleep. One where she felt nothing. All to escape the cold, the emptiness—all of it. 

The fairy’s neck had healed. The wound was just another scar. Momo didn’t look, but she knew the same would be the case with the burns. 

_I’m not human_. 

Yet she could still be hurt. She didn’t heal instantly. There were also other ways she got hurt. Some ways where it could be argued that it was worse. 

She stopped her thoughts. While it was slow, Dahyun’s heart was still beating. She was breathing. She had opened her eyes. She’d open them again. 

Momo wiped at her own eyes. Her fingers came away damp. 

Then she heard the others start to come into the house. 

Momo stood, allowing herself one more moment there. She reached out and pressed a hand to Dahyun’s cheek. 

“I miss you,” she whispered. _Again_.

_____

It had been a month since Dahyun fell asleep. 

Sana read the letter Dahyun had left them. Again. 

She traced a finger over each letter. She wondered how long it had taken to write. Dahyun took her time when it came to speaking. Maybe her writing took even longer.  


There had been no mistake anywhere and Sana knew that Dahyun wouldn’t have taken a new paper if she'd made a mistake. 

She'd known exactly what her parting words would be. 

Although she’d woken up and Sana knew she wasn’t lost, she was still shaken by the reality that Dahyun had been ready to say goodbye. She hadn’t gone to save them to keep them in her life. She had come purely to save their lives and their minds. 

And why had _they_ saved Dahyun? Sana wanted to think that it was for the same reasons Dahyun had. And yet Gerst had said it, while Dahyun believed it: death spared you from the suffering. Life held you there. 

They had saved Dahyun because they couldn’t let her go. Sana couldn’t let her go. Losing her once and thinking she’d lost her a second time had made that very clear. Painfully so. She didn’t know what to make of it. She felt ashamed that Dahyun had been forced back into a deep sense of emptiness. She was ashamed that Dahyun had been so desperate to escape it. 

Sana put the paper back on the table, feeling how a soft warmth left her. The emotions that had been directed at it had included love. Sana could feel that. How she could distinguish them, she didn’t know. 

She climbed the stairs, half-guided by habit, half by the scent of mountains and forests. 

Slowly, she opened the door. The cold greeted her. She walked in. 

“Hey,” Sana said. Gerst had said Dahyun might be able to hear them. She didn’t know if that was true or if he was trying in some way to make them feel better. 

Sitting down at the edge of the bed, she checked to see if Dahyun was still cold. She was, even though they’d wrapped her in blankets.  


She looked peaceful. Much unlike before. There were no illusions, but Dahyun wasn’t any less beautiful without them. 

Sana’s chest ached looking at her. She could do nothing to reach her, even if she was right in front of her. It was a slumber that Dahyun had sought out voluntarily. Sana knew it was better, for the sake that she wouldn’t need to suffer the consequences of the previous one.   


But it also increased her shame. It reminded Sana that they were the cause of both occurrences. The fae had realised they were a weakness of Dahyun’s. And now they had brought her back into a state where everything, even nothing, was too much.

_How about this. I can promise you that when I say I will, I’ll always come back._

Dahyun hadn’t said it this time. She hadn’t said it last time either. 

Sana closed her eyes. The ache strengthened. She wanted nothing more than to hold Dahyun, but something held her back. It was shame. She knew that much. 

And yet Dahyun’s heart still beat slowly. She wasn’t overcome by fear. Her breath flowed easily. She wasn’t sunken in grief. Whatever their reasons, they had still brought her back. That had never happened before. It meant there was a chance of saving people from an emotional overload. Getting back from it would be hard and Sana wasn’t sure if there’d ever be a full recovery. Whatever the case now, they had to help Dahyun through this. She didn’t know how the recovery worked. She just knew it needed time. And they had that. From there, they'd try to help whatever way they could. 

“I’m sorry we did this to you,” Sana said. She pressed her lips to a still cold forehead.

There was no response. 

_____

Dahyun didn’t dream. All that she saw were varying shades of dark and light blue. She didn’t think. She could only feel the cool of sadness, the warmth of calm, and the effects of both emotions. One was heavy, the other soothing. Both let her drift off again. 

There were moments where she was less deep in those emotions, moments where she felt a comforting touch, and moments where she heard people speaking. In those moments, she started to think, almost in response to what she heard. 

_Leave her be. She will return when she’s ready._

Dahyun found she didn’t want to return. Away from the physical world, deep in different emotions for a change, she felt safe. 

_She’s not eating. Should we get her an IV?_

Dahyun could have reminded them she didn’t truly need food. She didn’t. 

_I miss you._

Dahyun could have said that she had missed them as well. She didn’t. 

She was vaguely aware of a pressure on her skin. She was unsure where. It caused a sliver of purple to form among the blue. It didn’t warm Dahyun. Then it disappeared. 

_I’m sorry we did this to you._

Dahyun could have said there was nothing to be sorry about. She could have said she'd done this to herself. She didn't.

There was another pressure. This had the same effect. A flicker of purple before it vanished. Though it took slightly longer to disappear. 

Dahyun remained hidden in the emotional world. 

She wasn't sure what amount of time passed, only that she was glad to be away from it.

Then she was called back to it. By what she did not know. She only listened. Dahyun prepared to leave the physical world once again. 

_You have to get out of here._

_He said none of us should be in here long._

_I don’t care._

_But we do._

Was she giving out emotions that were hurting them? That would lead to a reminder of what they had gone through. Of what she had subjected them too. 

Dahyun didn’t want to. She wanted to stay in the embrace of emotions, not the war of them. But she had to leave if the rest were starting to feel her emotions more than they needed to. 

She began to push at the emotions. Partly to push herself away from them, but to also move those emotions further into herself. 

Dahyun became aware of the warmth leaving her. She felt the ice return. She wanted to escape it once again. She didn't.   


Perhaps if she resolved whatever was happening, she could go back to sleep. 

The cold surged through her. It had never left. Fear and grief still flowed through her mind and coursed through her blood. For anyone who was not made up of emotions, this would mean death. The reason went along the lines of emotions not being able to carry oxygen between one’s cells. For all scientific purposes, Dahyun should not have been alive. And yet she could survive being burned, having her throat slit, at least for a short time, and have her blood tainted. 

The emotions curled around her, tightening their grip on her, as though they knew she'd tried to escape them. It was nonsensical. Emotions were not sentient. 

Then Dahyun came to. There was some comfort within her. She felt safe wherever she was. 

She opened her eyes. She recognised the ceiling above her, could smell dinner and the faint scent of another person. It was vanilla. From something used to wash hair. 

The person had held their breath. 

Dahyun looked over, her body still aching. “Sana?” 

The breath was released. “Hey.” 

She saw Sana’s emotions. She saw the relief, she saw grief, and she saw the sadness and hesitation that grew in her now. 

And she had been asleep in that time. Sana had been awake, waiting. She'd waited for her to come back. 

Dahyun felt a tugging sensation on her nose. Then a burning in her eyes. It was not sadness, but shame and regret. 

“What is it?” Sana appeared at the bedside, her eyes wide with concern. “What can I do?” 

Dahyun watched as her hand rose, nearing her own, before it fell. There was disappointment and regret. Both directed at Dahyun. 

“I’m sorry,” Dahyun said. She sat up, wincing as unused muscles began to work and cool blood flowed through her. 

“For what?” Sana’s brow pulled together.

“I shouldn’t have been so selfish.” Tears began to flow. “All of you were willing to give so much. And I,” she faltered. “I could not face you.” 

A hand cupped her face. It did not give her warmth, but it gave some comfort. “That’s not a bad thing,” Sana said. “You said it yourself, it’s a terrible state. We should have—“

“I would’ve done the same thing,” Dahyun said. “If I had known a way to save you, I would've tried anything and everything before nothing else worked.” She blinked. “And after that I would have done everything to make sure you recovered.” Then she closed her eyes. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. It hurts to know I don’t feel what I once did for you. I can’t imagine how it is for you.” 

Sana didn’t respond immediately. The sadness had grown, as well as the emotions of missing another. 

Dahyun peeked out of one eye. The other's eyes were fixed on hers. 

“It’s nothing I’ve ever gone through before,” Sana said. “But it’s happening,” she brushed her thumbs over Dahyun’s cheeks, “so we work through it. Together.” 

Silence. A familiar tenderness had entered Sana’s gaze. Dahyun saw how purple rose, passing the sadness and disappointment. 

“And Dahyun,” she said. “You’re more than the emotions you feel.” A small smile. “And before you correct me, remember biology class? That we also have brains, with neurons and all that?” 

Dahyun only nodded. 

“If you had to describe your core emotions, are they more like the brain or more like the soul?” Then a small burst of recognition appeared. “Wait, don't tell me, they’re like the nucleus of an atom. So, the brain?” 

Dahyun felt a tug at the corners of her lip. She saw Sana’s eyes flicker to her mouth. There was a small burst of happiness in Sana. Just at the twitch of a mouth. 

“I would say so," Dahyun nodded, "those and the rest of your emotions, I say they could count as a soul.” 

Then sadness appeared. Dahyun felt it through the emotions that bound them. She would have to handle that soon, ensure that they weren't all bound anymore.   


“It is not as terrible as it sounds,” Dahyun said. “I don’t want to experience any of it, but it’s nothing deadly.” 

Sana’s brow twitched. The sadness remained, but it was joined by confusion and doubt. 

There was a knock on the door. “Can we come in?” 

Sana looked at her first, a question in her eyes. Dahyun nodded. 

“Yeah,” Sana called. She slowly withdrew her hand. Dahyun nearly missed the contact. The emotions vanished before she could feel them. 

It opened.

“Please tell me you’re hungry,” Chaeyoung called. “You’re getting thinner and thinner and we're all missing your cheeks.” 

A tray of food was set on her lap before she could answer. The smell reached her nose. It was delicious.

“Come on,” Nayeon nudged her, “you know you want to.” 

Dahyun drank the water first. Her throat was so dry. She coughed, nearly spitting all that was in her mouth out. She drank the rest slowly. Her thirst had only increased. 

Then she began to eat. It was lasagna. It tasted how she remembered it. Something concrete from the past. She nearly smiled. Then she felt her eyes begin to tear again. 

A hand brushed up and down her back. It felt nice. 

Dahyun looked up to see Nayeon looking at her with a gentle smile. 

“That good, huh?” She winked. 

Dahyun only nodded. She kept eating. They told her about what she’d missed in school. The new units in Literature, the sciences and History. She found herself tuning much of it out.   


Instead, she looked to ensure that there were no damaging foreign emotions in them. There was only her sadness, some pieces of curiosity from Rila and Gerst, and fear in Tzuyu. One of her eyes was grey. Dahyun would need to help her, but she could only do so later. 

Chaeyoung was explaining something they covered in Biology. 

Dahyun interrupted. “When I am a bit better, I will take the sadness back from your minds.” 

They looked startled that she’d spoken. 

“I trust that Gerst’s judgement on the situation is sound. You will still be safe. I doubt Yrest and her people will be able to hide much longer.” She paused. “But if you want to wait or refuse, then you need only say."

There was silence. 

“Do you want to take it back?” Nayeon asked. 

Dahyun nodded. It had caused too much trouble for them. As well as for her. The latter was a selfish thought, but in this moment of time, she couldn't bear to absorb more of their emotions. She only drew on the negative. She needed to remain in a headspace where it was possible to allow more positive emotions to form. If that was possible to achieve. 

“Then you'll take it,” Momo said. “As soon as you’re ready.” She sat at the foot of the bed. 

It struck Dahyun then what this meant for Momo, someone who had been the first of the eight to have her mind wholly taken over. She would allow Dahyun to take away the protection. 

The same applied to the rest. They had already felt the power that Yrest could use on them, even with the protection. They were willing to risk feeling the rest. 

Dahyun felt her resolve weaken again. She did not deserve this kindness. Not when she couldn’t provide them the same. It was unfair. 

And she had chosen to sleep, to leave them in the physical world, carrying burdens of guilt and loss. She'd made them wait for her again. 

_I’m sorry_ , Dahyun thought, her eyes burning once again. 

She would remain in both worlds, but not sunken within them. If not for herself, then for them. It would be painful, but she could not leave them. They had already given so much to her and she had left them once before. Twice now. She couldn’t do it another time. She would not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for how chapter length has skyrocketed (at least this one's shorter than the previous one?). It was the same thing as last time. There's a lot happening at the moment, but with how painful the previous chapters have been (I'm sorry for that pain as well), I really needed to bring some more light in. 
> 
> I have a thing in fantasy (occasionally sci-fi) stories where my biggest qualm is that resurrection never has a cost. This wasn't a resurrection, but something quite similar to it. If you'll bear with the complication, Dahyun's return comes with a cost. However, the much needed and deserved recovery from this rollercoaster is coming (I would argue it's slowly beginning). There are threads that need to be addressed so this journey is not without its bumps. 
> 
> With that, thank you again for keeping up with this story. Through these last chapters especially, my own emotions have been a bit of a mess, because when I write, I tend to try and feel what the characters are so I can write better (as you can imagine, there's a lot). 
> 
> Regardless, I hope you're also feeling more hopeful after this chapter! Would love to know your thoughts about things going forward. 
> 
> See you in the next one!


	24. Still the same

Days passed and the changes showed. Dahyun never asked questions. She only listened. When they sat down for a movie, she excused herself to go to the forest. She still promised that she would come back and they always heard her footsteps, but that was it. The steps stopped at one point where they assumed that Dahyun just sat down. They didn’t know what she did then, if it was something in the emotional world or the physical. 

Sana was sure it was just to be away from the house—away from them. 

A part of her hurt thinking that, but the other reminded her that they needed to give her space. The slumber had been an escape for her and they’d called her back. She wasn’t staying for herself, but for them. 

Sana watched as Dahyun ate now. There were slow movements and she wasn’t eating much.

The house didn’t smell like rot anymore. It only smelled like winter and mountain air. Dahyun was forcing down what she could, hiding what she could. Did the effort strain her? Did it hurt her? 

Then she set the fork down. “I will be taking the sadness away today.” Her voice didn’t hold much warmth. She sounded distant and her eyes were already looking into the emotional world. They were still black and grey.

They all looked at each other. Sana knew what each of them were thinking. There was a piece of her in each of them. It would be better for Dahyun to have those pieces back.

“Okay,” Sana said. “Do you think that’ll take as long as last time?” 

Her eyes refocused. Then they bored into Sana’s. There wasn't any curiosity, but she could still see her mind working. 

“I suppose so,” Dahyun replied. “So I’ll begin. There might even be a lightness afterwards.” Then her eyes glazed over completely. 

Sana felt a presence in her mind, one that drew at a dull cold in her. Melancholy surged and Dahyun’s face came to mind. It was one that wasn’t grey or black, but varying shades of blue. The one she’d seen when Dahyun had shown her the sky. She could vaguely make out Dahyun’s features. The scent of mountains rose. She could feel the sorrow in Dahyun, one that hadn't been there before. 

Sana pulled away from those emotions. The face she saw faded from view. 

None of the rest seemed to be confused at what they were feeling. The scent of sadness was so prevalent for Sana now. Each thought seemed to carry with it a thin thread of ice. Each breath made her more aware of a dull pain in her body. Not just her chest. She felt incomplete. 

“Do you think she’ll know why we felt what we did?” Tzuyu asked quietly. “I haven’t asked her yet, because,” she trailed off. 

Nayeon shook her head. “She’ll probably be like us, have a good idea why, but not for sure.” 

“Still ask her,” Sana said. “Tell her what you were feeling. Maybe she’ll get curious.” 

She wondered if unanswered questions would help. Dahyun wasn’t even asking questions. She didn’t seem to care about anything from the new topics in school to even figuring out how she’d been saved. Maybe they could get some of that enthusiasm back if they handed her the questions.

No one answered her. 

Sana closed her eyes, purposefully not reaching out in her head. What if she broke Dahyun’s concentration? 

She saw the dark and light blue outline of Dahyun behind her eyelids. It wasn't as close as before. Did that mean she'd moved on to the next one's mind? In her own head, she did feel lighter. Not relieved, but something close to it. 

She began to focus on the presence she could still see, but the more she saw of it, the more confused she felt. How could she see Dahyun in the first place? She was acting in the emotional world. Sana wasn't supposed to see that.

And yet, she could watch the blue threads flow towards Dahyun. The sadness she'd given each of them. The more she concentrated, the more saturated the colours became. 

That was when she saw the grey and black within Dahyun herself. The tendrils wrapped around the different shades of blue, as though trying to strangle them. The sight made a weight in Sana's chest expand. Then her throat constricted. She could only smell rot and winter. The scents took over each breath. She tried not to gag. 

Sana opened her eyes. She was looking at Tzuyu. 

“What is it?” the youngest asked. Her eye was still grey. She was also being tormented by fear. 

“You don’t feel that?” Sana asked. 

“Feel what?” Momo looked over. “Everything okay?” 

How was she not feeling that as well?

“I just,” Sana trailed off. The panic subsided. The weight in her body lifted. And the scent of rot faded. “Just feel different.” 

Nayeon nodded. “Same here.” She frowned. “I felt fine before, but I actually feel like I can breathe easier now.” 

There were murmurs of agreement. It still wasn't what Sana had just felt. Or seen. 

They started to clear the table. Sana put Dahyun’s uneaten food in a container and then into the fridge. Maybe she could tell her about the beauty of a midnight snack. Maybe she could ask her about how she balanced between the physical world, where needs like food and air were necessary, and the emotional one, where her blood could be made up of emotions and not cells and oxygen.

Questions like that might be able to help as well. She hoped they would. From what Gerst had told them and from what they’d seen, curiosity was one of the first emotions that had given Dahyun a piece of herself back. They needed to feed it.

“Do you really think it’ll help?” 

Sana turned to see Momo. Her eyes were locked on the floor. 

“You don’t?” Sana asked. She didn’t like the look in Momo's eyes. It seemed resigned. 

“She’s back from something no one’s ever come back from,” Momo replied. “We have no idea what that’s done to her.” 

Sana thought of the emotions she’d seen. Even though she had no idea why or how she was able to see it, she’d seen a hint of what Dahyun was feeling. She’d seen the emotions trying to smother her. For better or worse, Sana knew that Dahyun's current state of being was one of suffering. 

“And you’re saying what,” Mina came over, “that nothing’ll help her?” 

“Not that,” Momo said. “Just that you can’t expect her to be back to normal any time soon.” She chewed on her lip. “Maybe never.” 

Never. 

Sana couldn’t think that way. “Don’t say that.”

“It is possible,” Jeongyeon said. Her eyes held the same dejection as Momo’s. 

“So you want to just give up?” Nayeon frowned. “Give up on trying to help her get back on her feet?” 

“It’s not giving up,” Momo shook her head, “we’re there for her, we help make things bearable, and after that we’re still there for her.” A certainty had entered her voice. “All I’m saying is that we can't expect too much from her.”

Sana nodded. “I know.” 

The other almost looked surprised. As did Nayeon and Mina. 

“We don’t know what she was like with her clan or her family. We don’t know what she was like when they captured her," Sana said. They knew some of what she’d felt. Some of what she’d done, but that was far from everything. “But we do know what she was like afterwards. We know that she was starting to come back.”

Perhaps they'd disagree with her on that, but Gerst had said the same thing. And that had only been based on a description of her. 

Sana continued. “Dahyun was changing that entire time, and she’s different now, I’m not pretending she’s the same,” she paused. “But you can’t treat her like she’s a completely different person, because she’s not.” They also couldn't treat her like she was the same person. Sana couldn't pretend that her feelings were reciprocated, even if they had once been. She couldn't force anything on Dahyun. 

There was a sharp gasp. Then a cry. 

Sana rushed to where it came from. Something tore into her own mind. It was from Dahyun, but no colour was attached to it. The pain was small for Sana, but Dahyun’s grey and black eyes were filled with it. Tears were already beginning to form. The scent of rot returned. Together with that of ice, Sana felt the fear and grief creep back into her mind. 

“What happened?” Nayeon asked. 

“Excitement. Desire,” Dahyun murmured. When she blinked, tears fell. Her hand went to her chest. “Destroyed.” Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes. 

“Destroyed?” Chaeyoung’s voice came out as a hiss. 

Dahyun winced. “Careful with your anger.” 

Sana felt the ache of guilt return. She tried to reign in her anger, but she knew it wasn’t working. 

It hadn’t been enough that they took her emotions, but they were also destroying them. Not even using them. 

Then a cold hand took hold of hers. It felt like ice. There was a heart that beat several times its old pace. 

When Sana looked up, she saw the pain in Dahyun’s eyes. She saw the tears that clung to her lashes. Yet this same person had taken her hand. 

“I’m alright,” Dahyun said. “This will not kill me.” Her eyes shut again. A grey stain crept up her neck. Grief traced the sides of it. The black threads matched the route of the blood vessels there. 

Sana took Dahyun’s hand in both of her own. She felt flashes of terror as she sat there. They tugged at buried memories and old fears, but it didn’t matter. 

She didn’t know what she could do. Anything more than holding her hands would be too much. She knew that. 

How Sana wished she could give something back, but it wasn’t in her power. She’d learned that she didn’t have much of that. 

The grip on her hand tightened. The smell of death disappeared again. With it came a wince. Why would she still try this even if it hurt her?

Dahyun opened her eyes. Then she pulled the hand away. There was a small twitch of her mouth. 

“I’ll continue with the rest.” Her eyes glazed over, but the colour didn’t change to dark blue. 

Sana leaned back on the sofa, most of the tension leaving her. 

Although the scent of forests and mountains was all but gone, Sana still felt at ease in Dahyun’s presence. How could she not be the same person? She was there in the smallest of actions. The flow of words were still slow. Dahyun reached out when she felt she needed to, even if she was the one who needed the comfort. And if Sana wasn’t imagining it—

No. She wasn’t. She knew that the gentle edge to Dahyun’s gaze was still the same.

Someone curled into her side. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. 

“How are you?” Mina asked. She spoke Japanese. The other girls knew the language, but their accents were still strong. There was only one among them who didn’t know it. 

“Better,” Sana replied. 

“Me too.” A hand took hold of hers again. This one was warm. “She’s coming back.” 

Sana didn’t respond. Mina thought the same. She was still hopeful. 

“I know the emotions aren’t there,” Mina said softly. “But those memories, her trust in you. That part of her love is all still there." 

She shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong.” 

Mina’s eyes turned sad. 

Momo was right there. Their _now_ was different. Even if it tore at the fairy just as it did Sana, Dahyun knew that she didn’t feel the same as before. She wasn’t even sure if Dahyun would love her like she had. 

Except that wasn’t the point. It could wait. And if it never happened, Sana would have to accept that as well, even if it hurt her. 

“I just,” Sana began. “We have to help her and,” she faltered. “I don’t know how.” 

The other girls were silent, but she knew they were listening. The movie played, but she knew it was going unwatched. 

“We start by giving her space when she needs it,” Mina replied. “And we'll be there for her when she needs us.” 

“But she won’t admit that.” 

“Which is why we have to tell the difference,” Mina gave her a small squeeze, “we know that much.”

_From personal experience_ , Sana thought. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t read Dahyun anymore. She could. But she didn’t know what to do when she saw through the cracks in the blank gaze. She saw pain, disappointment, and exhaustion. It showed in the tension in her body when there was any foreign sound. It showed in how her shoulders dragged down when she walked or sat. 

All of that made it very clear that although they'd woken her up, Dahyun was still tied to those emotions. She was still haunted by all that had happened. And what Sana had seen after dinner had only cemented that fact. 

The only thing Sana could see herself doing was asking Dahyun to take some of the emotions that could help her, but she’d never accept them. The only other thing would be to—

Sana straightened. 

Mina looked up, her mouth parted to ask a question. 

“Where’re the other talismans?” 

The one that could have helped the most was destroyed, the other was with Gerst, and the other two were still hidden. 

Jeongyeon stood up, as did Jihyo. They left the house.

“Excitement and humour,” Mina murmured. “Where do you think they rank?”

“I don’t know,” Sana replied. “But excitement’s warm. I think humour will be too.”

Dahyun tried to hide it, but the constant cold ate away at her. It wasn’t anything blankets or thick clothes could help. The solution was a thin layer of calm over her skin. It was one that chased away the scent of rot in the air and gave her grey skin a light blue sheen. Yet she didn’t always have it on her. Sana was sure it was because it tired her out to even do that. 

Then the other two came in, the leather bands in hand. 

The scent of the emotions had combined to make something oddly refreshing. It was a combination of amber and hazelnut. Sana felt lighter. 

There was the urge to reach out to them, just as there was one to turn away. Sana didn’t reach out. Not if there was a chance of her absorbing those emotions. Dahyun wouldn’t take them away if it happened. 

______

When Dahyun finished, they put the talismans in front of her. 

She stared at them. “These were from the witch?” Her eyes gave nothing away. She didn’t seem interested or wary of them. 

“I think they were payment,” Chaeyoung said. 

“Anger,” Dahyun muttered. “Do not feel so enraged at that.” One of the talismans rose up into the air, orange threads curled off from it, before falling back down into the grooves of the wood. It drifted over to Dahyun’s outstretched hand. When it touched her skin, a faint glow entered her eyes, but neither the black or grey changed. 

Her expression softened. Her eyes closed. Sana watched as a small smile began to appear. The sight caused an ache to grow in her chest. It was longing. Longing to see that expression again. To see the smile grow. 

Then Dahyun let out a small breath. When she opened her eyes, Sana saw that the irises were rimmed with orange now. 

The talisman still held veins of the emotion. 

“Why didn’t you take everything?” Tzuyu asked. 

“It’s not all mine.” Dahyun dropped the talisman. It slid from her lap and over to Sana. 

Sana picked it up. She dropped it immediately, remembering what contact with it meant, but she was too late. 

She didn’t laugh, but the urge to bubbled up her throat. The scent of hazelnuts filled her head. In the same moment, she saw a fire burning, around it sat several people. All of them had pointed ears and bright orange eyes, as though they'd caught the light of the flames. To her right was a familiar girl with hair of bright and deep blue, her eyes also orange. Then those eyes turned into crescents and she laughed without abandon. Beside her was Rila, her own laugh a lighter sound compared to Dahyun’s deeper one. She heard a sound that fell firmly in the middle. It came from herself, but it wasn't her laugh. 

Sana blinked and the memory was gone. The sounds still echoed in her head. 

Her vision cleared and she saw the fairy looking back at her. Her eyes were grey and black, devoid of the brightness Sana had seen. 

“Sorry,” Dahyun said.

“It’s okay,” Sana whispered. She wished her voice was more stable. 

Dahyun had never laughed like that with them. She’d always been as quiet as her speech was. What Sana had seen had been without hesitation and without a foreseeable end. 

The fairy nodded. Then she reached for the other one. 

This time her eyes became rimmed with yellow. The small smile remained. Those were the only changes, but it was something. 

Yellow still remained embedded in the wood. 

“When Gerst returns, he will have those,” Dahyun said. Both were placed back on the table. 

No one had to ask what she meant. The other emotions were Teresa’s. She wouldn’t take them. 

“You think he’ll come again?” Jeongyeon asked. 

“I believe there'll be reason to,” Dahyun replied. “They will need some sort of evidence.” Pause. “From me.” She stood. “Thank you for saving these.” A curt nod. 

“Where’re you going?” Nayeon half stood with her. 

“I need to replace the clothes I lost.” Light blue shimmered in the air around her hand. She winced. “I’ll make them of calm this time. Perhaps it will help with the temperature issues.” 

_This time_. The clothes from last time had been of fear. Had she made them to get used to it? 

“Can I ask you something first?” Tzuyu looked as though she already expected a ‘no’. 

“Yes.” Dahyun sat. “What?” Her gaze was focused. Waiting, but not interested. 

“After you gave us the sadness and,” she frowned, “everything else happened. Nayeon and I saw and felt things the others didn’t.”

The fairy frowned. “Like?” 

“I knew you were okay, safe,” Nayeon said. “I didn’t feel as on edge after you left like the others did. Even though there was none of your calm in the house anymore.” She looked at her hands. “We got flashes of what you were going through when—after—” she broke off. 

Silence. 

Dahyun was looking between the both of them. The frown was still in place, but it wasn’t as harsh as before.

“I had feared a different connection due to your affinities to the two emotions,” the fairy finally said. “I’m sorry you had to see such,” her gaze fell, “such—” Dahyun tensed then. 

Sana slipped a hand into hers. The fairy’s skin was cold. It seemed to be getting colder as well. 

Dahyun didn’t recoil. She held Sana’s hand tighter. 

“Things,” she finished. “It is a connection I don’t quite understand.” Her expression transitioned into the physics look—or at least a mild version of it. “Core emotions were never shared, despite two people possessing them. There were often small differences, as I’m sure you noticed with there being different types of sadness or curiosity.” Her brow twitched. “There was rarely a case of giving and taking those emotions, unless there was good cause.” 

“What was considered a good cause?” Jihyo asked. There was an edge to her voice. Sana couldn’t have agreed more. The fae’s idea of justice was skewed. It might have been the same for what was good and bad. 

“When someone lacked inspiration,” Dahyun said. “If you couldn’t reach the motivation to pursue a question, you would go to Gerst or Rila.” A tiny smile. “When I distanced myself from the emotional world the first time, I had great difficulty returning to any state of wanting.” A small breath. “Gerst could not help, for his was a curiosity that did not reach me, but Rila was able to. She helped me to further my pursuit even though I was not among my people.” 

Sana felt her stomach turn at the mention of the other fae, yet there was a strange tenderness to Dahyun’s voice. As though she wanted to tell them something on _her_ terms, one that wasn’t coloured by emotions of betrayal. It reminded her of when Gerst had first come to them to warn them about a traitor. He’d known who it was, but had still defended her.

Another moment of silence. They all let her speak. It was the longest she’d spoken since waking up.

“I discovered something monumental about the emotional world after that. Rila felt my joy when I’d made the discovery.”

“Gerst told us about that,” Momo said. Her brow was furrowed. “You were the one to learn how to make them physical.”

Dahyun dropped her gaze then. A dark blue thread appeared, weaving its way lazily between her fingers. She didn’t wince. “I spent some years trying to find even more, though I briefly returned to show what I had found. Initially, only Rila had supported the use of the emotional world in that way.” The blue disappeared. “Others believed I had broken a divine rule. That this was the ruin they’d predicted I would bring about.”

Something in her expression crumpled. Sana felt the pain in her own mind. An ache. Dahyun believed she had brought that ruin. The image of Dahyun’s bright smile crossed her mind. The sound of her laughter returned. 

Then her face closed off. “But to return to the point,” Dahyun sighed, “those interactions between core emotions are the only ones I know about.” Dahyun stood. Her gaze flicked down to the hand that Sana still held. “I will come back,” she said. “I won't be in the forest.” She let go. Then she walked out. Her footsteps disappeared soon after. 

______

The next day, Momo soon found out that Dahyun really wasn’t in the forest. 

She’d been walking around town and the forest, trying to think everything through. She knew that most of the other girls were hopeful that Dahyun would be brought fully back. 

Momo wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that Dahyun was the same person she had been, but there were too many differences. 

She saw another when she looked into the window of the cafe. 

Dahyun sat by the window, a cup in her hands. Her skin was normal and her hair was a deep brown, both free of black and grey. From where Momo stood, she was a normal girl. What broke that illusion was the look in her eyes. It was cold without giving away her thoughts. Empty. 

Momo opened the door. As she walked over, she felt nervous. 

Dahyun looked up. There was recognition in her now brown eyes, but the warmth that had once filled them was gone. Then her gaze turned into casual politeness. It didn’t make Momo feel any better. It was a facade. 

Dahyun’s eyes were open. She should’ve been ecstatic about that fact, but she wasn’t.

“Can I join you?” Momo asked. 

She nodded. “A few people recognised me,” she said. “They asked if I was going to come back to school.”

“Will you?”

“No.” Dahyun looked around the room. “Not when I am like this.”

She remembered what Sana had hoped to do with getting her curious. If that was meant to work, then going to school should help. 

"You don't want to?"

Dahyun didn't respond immediately. Then she did, but in English. “Seeming normal to humans.” The words were said softly. "It's difficult."

Then the waiter came. Momo ordered a coffee. Dahyun didn’t ask for another drink. 

“Was it a hot chocolate?” She nodded at Dahyun’s cup. 

“It’s very comforting.” She swirled the cup in her hand. “I thought it was time I’d go to a café again.” 

The words weren’t said, but Momo was sure she was referring to being back in the mortal world. It had been overwhelming even for Gerst. How was it for her now?

Then Dahyun’s head whipped to the side. The door had been pulled shut with a sharp snap. 

“It’s okay.” Momo wanted to reach out and take her hand. She didn’t. 

Her coffee came. 

A small nod. “As was once said, I’m a bit of a scaredy-cat.” There was a tiny tug on the corner of her lip. 

Momo felt the urge to smile as well. It was then that she realised that the scent of rot was gone. Winter remained, but nowhere near as strong as it had been. No one in the café seemed to be on edge or down. Dahyun had suppressed all of it. Even more than at home. 

“Momo,” Dahyun said. There was a question forming in her gaze. It wasn’t the physics look.  “How have you been?” 

“That’s,” Momo began. She had no idea how to put it. How was she supposed to explain her thoughts—her doubts? 

Dahyun nodded. “Not a question to answer here,” she said. “Or now.” Her eyes fell back to the table. 

“Right,” Momo said. Dahyun knew exactly when not to pry and when to ask. She gave the choice to another. Most of the time. That was still the same. At least. 

The rest of the time was spent in silence. Momo didn’t know how to break it. Small talk felt wrong. 

Then again, Dahyun had come to a café and ordered a hot chocolate. Did she want normal?

“Do you wanna keep reading Harry Potter?” she asked. “Or try a different series?”

“I wanted to read about your—the mythologies.” Dahyun swirled her empty cup again. “Of what I’ve missed, that’s one of the things I have yet to know about.” 

Momo looked at her own drink. Hardly half of it was gone. She let her magic cool it off before drinking the rest. It was bitter. 

“We can pay,” Momo said. They could continue this conversation away from the rest. Whatever could peak Dahyun’s interest was good. She agreed with Sana on that. 

Another nod. Then Dahyun went to the counter. “I’ll pay for both.” The words sounded much warmer than anything she’d said at the house. “Thank you. Have a nice day.” Then she turned around. Momo watched the warmth drain from her face. 

Momo held out the money for the drinks.

Dahyun only shook her head. “Allow me this.” She brushed past her and opened the door. The warm tone of her voice was already slipping away. 

Momo was overcome by the normalcy. It was a clear winter day. Both of them wore thick jackets even though neither of them really needed warm clothes. To those on the street, they’d look like two normal girls coming from a coffee together. 

No one knew what had been happening in the last months. No one knew anything about what Momo and the other girls had been exposed to—a beautiful world that had horrific corners and an amazing magic that could be used as a terrible weapon. 

“What kind of myths?” 

“The easy answer would be all of them,” Dahyun replied. “If all proceeds as I think it will, I’ll have the time for that.” 

If. Momo didn’t want that word to be in that sentence. 

“Though I’ll first look at the Ancient Greeks,” the fairy said. “Their influence is great in the western world, particularly in the stories.” Her eyes sought the sky then. “After that the Romans, then the many from this side of the world.” 

The way she spoke was familiar. Yet Momo saw no wonder in her eyes, only a distant sort of calm. 

“Do you believe in something?” Dahyun asked. “God or otherwise?”

The question took her aback. “I never needed to think much about it before I turned.” She knew that wasn’t a proper answer. “The mortals call it Wicca, I think, but our coven focused more on magic than anything.” 

“I understand,” Dahyun murmured. 

A long pause. They were in the forest now. 

“If I haven't misunderstood the word, we ascribed sentience to what was most significant to us.” Another pause. “Nothing was personified. It was just something more, be it the elements or a place, like forests or mountains.” Dahyun looked up again. “My people fixated more on the sky, as it is so dynamic in both worlds.” Her eyes fell. Again. 

All of it was in past tense. 

Dahyun met Momo’s eyes. “No, I do not share those beliefs.”

“Not anymore,” Momo found herself saying. She wished she hadn’t. 

“Not anymore,” she repeated. “Though my respect for those places,” she waved upwards, “has not wavered.” Another pause. “And I had been on the way to regaining my faith before.” Her hand lingered on a tree. “Perhaps it could happen again.” 

Was she hopeful? Or just trying to make Momo feel better?

“May I ask how you are now?” Dahyun stopped walking. This time she didn't look away again. She was waiting, but her eyes seemed to be looking through Momo instead of at her. 

“Honestly?” Momo shook her head. “I don’t know.” She was either asking exactly the wrong person or the right one, but she still asked, “what do you see?”

The next moment passed too slowly. Dahyun’s eyes hadn't glazed over. She'd already looked. 

“You’re very confused,” said Dahyun. “Weary, angry, saddened, disappointed, and doubtful.” The next silence passed. “There is also guilt.” A smile appeared, but it was sad. “There is no reason to regret those emotions, Momo. I have no idea how tomorrow will feel nor next year.” 

“Do you feel the same the entire time?” She didn’t even know what ‘the same’ was. 

“Hard to say,” Dahyun sat down, not minding the damp soil, “there are flickers of emotions, often encouraged by what’s most prominent around me.” 

The illusions on her skin fell away first. Her scars appeared as slivers of grey seeping into her complexion. The brown of her hair and eyes faded into black and grey. It looked like silver that hadn't been polished. Her ears pointed. The fairy leaned back against a tree. 

“Being among you, among the humans,” Dahyun said. “I do believe I feel something, which was a rarity before too.” She pursed her lips. “Though I cannot hold onto the emotions as well as I do the ones you gave me yesterday.” A frown. “That’s not right. I have them, but, well, say this is normal.” A piece of deep blue appeared in front of her. It was the size of her head. “And this is what happens when I ought to feel something.” It shrank to the size of a coin. Dark blue curls of smoke fell away from it. The coin shrank further. “So it is not nothing.” She closed her eyes. 

The black in her skin rose up to her throat, circling the new scar from the knife. Then it travelled up her cheek. It moved slowly, sluggishly. 

“But feeling makes you tired,” Momo said. 

“All of it tires me.” Her eyes opened, now grey and black pools. “But I won’t sleep.” 

Dahyun stood and began to walk to the house. 

Momo followed. The only thing now missing was the scent of fear. That of grief was present, but it didn't make Momo feel nearly as heavy as before. 

There was movement in the house now. They had all listened to what Dahyun had said. All of them had learned a fraction of what her reality was like now. 

What did it show? That she wasn’t the same? That she may or may not come back? Dahyun didn’t seem to know the answer. Momo thought she did. But even though she might not fully return and she wasn’t the Dahyun they’d known, she still made the same kind of decisions. 

Dahyun had been able to choose if she faced that uncertainty or not. She’d chosen to live with it. Momo was sure it wasn’t for Dahyun’s own sake, but for theirs. 

The first thing Momo did when she got home was get one of the many books they had about Greek mythology. 

______

Sana tapped her knuckles lightly to the door. Once. Twice. 

The response was immediate. “Yes?” The voice was very much awake. 

She didn’t open the door immediately. “It’s Sana. Can I come in?” 

“Yes.” The voice wasn’t warm. Just polite. 

Sana pushed down on the handle. The scent of rot and winter greeted her, but they soon disappeared. Dahyun was hiding them again. 

The lamp was on. On her lap was a book. Next to her was a notebook. 

“I’ve gotten to a myth about a goddess, one with a bow and arrow. Close ties to the moon.” 

“Artemis.” Sana sat down at the edge of the bed. Just seeing her like this, her hair and eyes varying degrees of grey and black, it made her feel cold. 

“You’re not sleeping?” Dahyun's brow furrowed. “Is it nightmares?” Then she closed the book. She didn’t put a bookmark in. “In those two times we were close, you did sleep without them.” Her eyes were almost piercing as they looked into Sana’s.

Sana looked away. The ache in her chest had grown. 

Then a hand closed around her own. “I don’t mean to cause you such sadness.” Her skin was still so cold. 

“I know,” Sana said. “But it’s okay.” 

Dahyun shook her head. There was a brief pause. “Are you here to sleep or talk?” 

She wasn’t sure if Dahyun wanted to do either. And yet there was a willingness not to shut them out, something Sana appreciated to no end. But the distance between them hadn’t faded. It was always there in her eyes, but it wasn’t a wall. Instead it was whatever ache Sana had felt before. She was starting to think it was the emptiness Dahyun was also living with. 

“Sleep?” Sana suggested. 

“Alright.” 

There was a tug on her hand. The light shut off, but she still saw Dahyun sitting there. 

Sana let herself be pulled over. Either Dahyun wasn’t completely against this, or she just wanted to make sure Sana slept, but Sana needed to be close to her. She needed to know she was there. 

The fairy’s arms went around her. Just that action filled Sana with such relief. She could hear her heart. It was so slow. The scent of mountains had grown. It was comforting, but its meaning, fittingly, made her chest feel heavier. 

Sana looked up at her. Dahyun was staring out the window. The night sky was cloudy, but Sana was sure she saw the canopy that went beyond countless particles of water. 

“I’m sorry,” Sana said. 

“For?” Dahyun looked back. 

She felt her nose start to burn. “That we brought you back when you didn’t want to be.” She took a deep breath. She could not cry. Not now. “I just—we missed you so much. We didn’t want to lose you again.” _I couldn't lose you_. 

“I know,” Dahyun said. “I don’t want you to feel guilt for it, but you told me I shouldn’t lie, so I will not now.” She blinked. “The truth is that I feel very—more unlike myself than I have ever been.” 

The pain in Sana’s chest rose. It wasn’t just hers. It was also Dahyun’s. That made it worse. 

She met Sana’s eyes. “You never knew who I used to be,” her gaze fell again, “but you knew the parts of myself that were reconstructed. Now I have neither of those things.” A pause. “That should be a consideration to have—”

“Do you think I'll stop feeling the way I do?” Sana asked. Just the thought felt impossible. “Dahyun, you’re the same person.” Before the fairy could deny it, she continued. “You were reading a book just before I came here. You’re making notes. You’re still interested. You still want to learn.” 

Silence. Sana watched as her words were processed. 

“But would it not be better for the person you love to fully reciprocate?” Dahyun asked. “I did, but now," her brow furrowed, "I believe we've lost that person." 

Sana leaned up. “That doesn’t change things for me,” she said. “Do you remember what you told me?" She wanted to tell her she loved her, but those words might put too much pressure on her. "About loss in love?"

"Loss in love is a constant," she whispered. "But what about when half is lost?"

Sana felt a twinge in her mind. It pulled her towards Dahyun, but she didn’t follow it. It would be too much.

“Have you read about Theseus yet?” Sana asked instead. She didn't remember when exactly she'd heard of it. It might have been ten years ago, or a hundred. Time had blurred for her there. 

Dahyun shook her head. Sana felt some sort of anticipation then. It also wasn’t hers. Or was it? She didn’t know. 

“I don't really remember if his dad was Poseidon or a king called Aegeus, but he’s still considered one of the Greek heroes,” she explained. “You’ll read about him later, but one of the main myths is that he defeated a creature called the minotaur. Half man, half bull.” 

“Bull?” Dahyun repeated. The tension in her had risen. It was a good tension. Sana knew it wasn't just her own now. 

Sana nodded. “You’ll find out how it happened, but don’t question that too much. Not even then.” She shifted to a more comfortable position. Hopefully for both of them. “Anyway, a Greek philosopher developed a thought experiment. He said that a ship of Theseus had been kept as a relic.” Through the darkness, Sana looked for Dahyun’s eyes. They were still fixed on her. “But wood rots, metal rusts, so pieces of the ship were replaced. At some point, the ropes, sails, planks, and nails are all replaced.” She let the words sink in, before she asked, “is it still the same ship?” 

Silence. She could feel her confusion. 

“I first thought no,” Dahyun said. “But,” she frowned, “that also seems wrong to say.” Then her eyes widened slightly. “It’s like the cells of the body being replaced. Even nerves.” One hand left Sana’s back. It traced her neck, along the scar from the knife. “You think the same might apply here?” she asked. "To myself and," a short pause, "you and I?"

“Does it make enough sense for that?” Sana didn’t want to let herself hope, but she still felt it starting. 

“It might,” Dahyun replied. 

They lay there. Neither said a word, but Sana didn’t want to fill the silence with something that didn’t need to be there. She was so thankful to be able to hear Dahyun’s heart, to feel her gentle breathing, and to be so close to her. It was overwhelming to be aware of how much she’d missed her. Now they were here. 

The fairy broke the silence. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve got reasons for why it isn’t the same ship.”

Sana felt something in her warm. It reached out to Dahyun. 

Dahyun's arms around her tightened then. “But also why it's still the same.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's happening right now is unclear for the girls. They don’t know what’s going to happen now, but they approach the unknown a little differently to one another. There were scenes for Dahmo and Saida, but a part of both relationships has changed. That can't be forgotten. 
> 
> What are your thoughts on Momo and Sana's perspectives? Could Dahyun, if given the time return? Should the girls hope for that return? Or lower their expectations? Both?
> 
> You might disagree with how some of the girls are approaching this, or maybe even with all of them. Whatever the answer, I’ll see you next chapter! 


	25. You had an idea

“Two emotions are correct,” Dahyun frowned at the screen, “three if you count the happy one’s dress.”

“She’s pretty excitable too,” Chaeyoung said. “Do the creators get points for the colour they made her skin?”

“Perhaps.” Dahyun watched as purple fear took hold of the controls. In the film, fear was an emotion that protected. If she were to imagine that the creators had known the true connection between purple and fear, its behaviour in the film would make sense. She’d ‘give points’ for that as well. 

The film continued with more focus on the emotions than Dahyun had expected. Sadness remembered only the negative of a memory. 

_Correct_ , Dahyun thought.

It kept going. Anger was far more explosive than what she knew. Disgust was green and Dahyun still vehemently disagreed with that colour choice. Fear was more annoying than it was realistic. Joy was intense. Sadness was frequently hopeless. Dahyun imagined that all were realistic to one person or another. It was likely unfair of her to be so critical of it. 

And then the film delved into the shame felt by Sadness. Dahyun felt tempted to tune out, but it was in these moments where one had to push on in fictional stories. Even if a plot ended in flames, its meaning would be seen in the smoke. This would be the same. Despite it being for children (mostly), the insight within the film was admirable. 

The film ended. Joy had come to realise the value of sadness and the other emotions, while Sadness had needed to recognise that of herself. 

“Tissue?” someone asked. 

Dahyun blinked, feeling teardrops roll down her cheeks. 

Tzuyu gave her a gentle smile. “Here.” She handed her the packet. It was already open. 

Dahyun responded with a small smile. It came more easily now. Oddly enough. 

There was concern directed at her, but also relief. 

There were also eyes on her. Dahyun looked up and saw Sana by the kitchen counter, her eyes purple. In her hands, she held a bag. 

Dahyun nodded at her. She did the same. 

In the past few days—had it strayed into weeks?—Sana had given her a great deal of space, both emotionally and physically. Dahyun knew it was difficult for her to do so. She saw how her emotions rose and fell when Dahyun spoke or remained silent. She wished she wasn’t the source of those changes, but she was. Being close to another now and then was tolerable, but if it was consistent, joined with the comparatively overwhelming amounts of love, it became too much. 

“Did you like it or hate it?” Jeongyeon sat on her other side. In her lap was a fresh bowl of popcorn. “Share?” She put it on her lap. 

Dahyun huffed, but ate a piece. “It was an insightful film,” she said. “Quite empathetic.”

The other girl laughed. “That was terrible.” 

She smiled. “I know.” 

A lightness came into the room. Dahyun basked in it. The uncertainty in the air was not gone, but it had been superseded by humour and curiosity. 

“Another?” Dahyun asked. 

“You choose,” Jihyo said. 

That meant a great amount of freedom. Nothing frightening. This night was the best she'd had since waking up again. She intended to keep it that way.

“What was the sequence with little monsters?” Were any of those things the right words? “There was a ball that absorbed them.” Dahyun looked at Sana then. “You said I looked like one?” There'd been a picture of an orange one with fire coming from its tail. 

Chaeyoung jumped up. “Gotta catch ‘em all!” She rushed over to the sofa and sat on the floor in front of her. “You’ll tell me who’s your favourite, I’ll buy you the plushie, and then we’re playing the game.” 

“Alright,” Dahyun patted her head, “we’ll do that.”

Mina sat down beside Tzuyu. “Movie or the series? Both are corny, but a good time.” 

“What comes first?” 

“Series.”

“Then that,” Dahyun said. 

Mina smiled. “Good choice. Just so you know, the voices are really high.” 

They started watching. The voices were indeed high, but the story was largely lighthearted. Dahyun imagined it would be a welcome change from the day. 

They watched five episodes. None of the girls were tired and Dahyun found herself trying to commit each new little monster to memory. Few times had she ever thought to use the word ‘cute’, but she saw its effects many times with the rest. There was excitement, a light form of happiness and love, forming an instant feeling of care. It was interesting. Dahyun felt a tug on her lips each time she saw an endearing Pokémon. 

Then she felt a change in the forest. Very faint, but she felt it still. 

Dahyun did not think. She reached into the emotional world, pulled the calm into the physical world, and made it wrap around them. 

The effort ricocheted back at her. She was thrown from the emotional world and a wave of cold overcame her. She hissed when some of it pierced her blood vessels. 

Tzuyu gasped beside her, while Mina jumped. Dahyun tried to rein in the fear that seeped into the room. The effort made the ice in her blood expand. 

Sana was in front of her. “Is someone here?” 

Something had changed. Sana was now much more attuned to Dahyun. Certain changes in her own mood seemed to resonate with Sana, despite Dahyun not allowing those changes to show. 

“Y-yes,” Dahyun said. She reached for the presence in the forest again, but could not. “By the river."

“We’ll go,” Jeongyeon stood, “can I?” Her hands hovered above Dahyun’s arms. 

She nodded, getting to her feet. 

Hands gripped her arms, lifted her slightly off the ground, and then they were off. 

The sound of rushing water filled her ears. Dahyun’s feet met the ground. She looked for where the calm came from. Not in sight, but the person was still restrained. 

She reached again, pushing past the ice that surged within her, and pulled on where the calm that had coalesced in the area. 

The same push happened. Or was it a pull?

Dahyun stumbled, but did not fall. Two pairs of hands caught her. Tzuyu and Nayeon. She knew her skin would feel like ice. Tzuyu flinched. 

“I think you can let go,” Chaeyoung said, looking at the person Dahyun had brought towards them. 

Dahyun did, letting the pale blue return to the forest. That did not hurt.

“You could’ve given us a warning,” Jeongyeon said. “A call, or even a letter.” 

“For that I must have and understand information in a language I don’t know,” Gerst replied. He got to his feet. His eyes were gentle as he looked at Dahyun. 

The resemblance to his daughter was great. Dahyun felt the urge to look away, but she did not. He could face her. She had to be able to do so herself. 

“You reclaimed some emotions,” he said. A smile began to appear. Then a vast blue cloud formed in the air. “This is yours as well.” 

The gentle warmth came over her. The calm that was felt in a forest, in the safety before sleep, and the focus of solitude. It was calm, but not the one that made up Dahyun. It was the one she’d felt throughout her life. Another piece of herself. 

“Thank you,” Dahyun said. Yet she knew why he had come. “Please don’t make me go back.” She didn't say the words in English. 

“I must try,” he replied. “You could come back home.” 

“Mind speaking in a language we know?” Nayeon asked, a slight raised eyebrow. “Life-changing decisions shouldn’t be made in secrecy.” 

Dahyun felt a small pang of shame. 

Gerst spoke first. “There is a chance that Dahyun could could be pardoned.” 

“What do we have to do?” Jihyo asked. 

Dahyun felt the hope of eight rise. She needed to quell it. 

“It doesn't matter,” she said quietly. "I won't take it."

The hope did not disappear, but it was enveloped by shock. 

______

Tzuyu didn’t know what she could say. Should she ask why? A part of her felt as though she didn’t have to. She’d mentioned this once before. They’d talked about this before. Was the guilt still holding her back? 

Maybe. She still didn’t have to ask what pardoning Dahyun meant. There might have even been a chance of getting more parts of herself back. Yet the prospect itself was unthinkable for Dahyun. 

“Why not?” Momo asked. She looked confused, almost desperate to hear an answer. “It could be a chance to get back what they took, right?” She looked to Gerst then. 

Dahyun shook her head. “I won’t, I–I can’t.” They all heard her take a deep breath. “The risk is too great.” 

“Risk of what?” Jihyo asked. “Do you think it’s a trap?” She spoke in Korean then. 

The grey in Dahyun’s skin pulsed. It circled her neck, the black joining it soon after. 

Then the air turned sour. 

Tzuyu felt the change herself. The ice in her mind started to spread. 

Then the ice was replaced by a gentle warmth. The scent became that of forests. 

“I’m sorry,” Dahyun whispered. “But I won’t do this.” She looked at Gerst then. “They don’t need me for proof.” The words came out as a hiss. “They can go to either of the places we were and they’ll know what happened.” 

Tzuyu half expected her to turn away then, but she stayed where she was. The fairy’s eyes seemed a brighter grey than before, the smoke underneath her skin still writhed around. Tzuyu knew what half of that felt like. She knew that Dahyun would be reliving the memories attached to that fear and other ones still in her life. Tzuyu had felt the fear of being hunted, both her own and of another, as well as that of nearly dying, also from her own experience and that of another. 

That fear latched on to other memories like it. The only mercy was that it let up, coming back only in waves or with certain triggers. And if it caught you, it didn't happen in the absolute forefront of your mind. Tzuyu was always able to see the real world, but she barely managed to get through the surges of fear. 

“They need to know your role in it,” Gerst said. 

“They don’t already?” Nayeon asked, her eyes hard. “Like she said, it’s not hard to find that out.”

“Those defending Yrest or those impartial to it all must know the full story. They won’t settle for what we’ve already given them," he replied. 

Tzuyu almost didn’t want to hear anymore. Their system was so skewed. Could they not see that it was all so very clearly wrong? Or did some just not want to accept it? Were there people who believed that it was Dahyun’s fault for starting the conflict? Was that it? 

Sana spoke up then. “Did you just come here to tell her that?”

Or had he come because he wanted them to convince Dahyun? 

“I came because I didn’t get a response to the message I sent.” His eyes flicked between Sana and Dahyun then. Tzuyu saw confusion in his expression, but a flash of gold in his eyes. There was something different between the two. She’d suspected it herself, as Sana was always extremely attentive to the state Dahyun was in. Even if she didn’t approach her as much as she used to. Dahyun's eyes were still grey and her expression tended to rarely change, yet Sana knew if she was struggling with something. 

“But my answer is final,” Dahyun said. “There’s no waiting for a response or any convincing you can do,” she shook her head, “I won’t do it.” And that was when she walked off. This time it was in the direction of the city. 

“Dahyun?” Sana’s voice was quiet. Uncertain. 

“I’ll be back,” the fairy murmured. "I promise." Then she was almost completely out of sight. 

They waited until her footsteps had faded almost completely away. 

“Does this clear Rila’s or Yrest’s name if she refuses?” Chaeyoung asked. 

“It only affects the terms of her exile,” said Gerst. “She could come home.”

Come home. Tzuyu would never want Dahyun to abandon her first home, her people. She knew the longing that homesickness bred. But she also wasn’t sure if she could stomach Dahyun leaving again. Hadn’t she found a new home with them? Maybe she’d go back and forth? If she even let her memories be examined. What exactly did that mean? How bad was it, or could it be, that she completely refused it?

“And her emotions?” Momo crossed her arms. “Could she get them back?”

“Not all of them,” he sighed, “some of the ones she would want back have already been consumed, while I’ve been barred from taking any more than the calm I had with me.” 

Tzuyu felt revulsion rise in her throat. They’d deny that in addition to her exile. 

“Are you gonna stay here a while?” Jeongyeon asked. “I’m not sure if we can change her mind, but what if we could?” 

“I was hoping for that,” Gerst nodded, “my plan is to look around this area a bit, though I will stay in the forest.” 

“Not looking like that,” Jihyo pointed at his bare feet and hair, “right?”

He smiled slightly, before presenting a leather sack from his back. “I have managed to buy shoes and,” his hair turned dark blonde, his eyes green, while his ears rounded off, “blending in is possible.” The look in his eyes reminded Tzuyu of how Dahyun often was during movies. Interested, but always with a lot of concentration behind it. “I wanted to see the libraries found here.” Then a piece of gold appeared in his hands. “This can be used to contact me wherever I might be. If you direct your thoughts at it, with the notion of me in mind, then I will know you wish to speak.” He walked over to Sana and pressed it into her hands. “And I’ll know where to find you.” 

“The stores aren’t open yet,” Mina said quietly. 

“Oh?” He put on the shoes, as well as a thin down jacket. It didn’t exactly go with the pale green clothes he wore. “I’ll wait for them too then. Still with that look in his eyes, Gerst turned around and began to walk in the direction Dahyun had gone. 

“Home first?” Jihyo asked. Then she was off. 

Tzuyu followed. 

They were in the living room. The minds of Jeongyeon and Momo seemed to already be made up. Sana was staring at the gold in her hands. Curiosity. 

“I don’t get it.” Chaeyoung sat down, running a hand through her hair. “She could get pieces of herself back if she took that risk. She’s exposed herself already,” her breath hitched, “and that was riskier than anything else.”

“She’s had enough,” Nayeon replied. “This's years of being scared of your own people. And she doesn’t have the same feelings she had for them. That means no real friendship or trust. Not anymore.” 

But she trusted _them_. That couldn’t just be from the small amount of love they’d given back to her. Or was Tzuyu just too hopeful? 

“Too much has happened,” Chaeyoung nodded, “but maybe there’s a way to work around it? She won’t try, but what if we figured something out?”

“Like what?” Jeongyeon was drinking from a blood bag, her eyes green, but Tzuyu doubted she was happy. “They could have proof slap them in the face and they probably wouldn’t bat an eye.” She tossed the empty pack into the trash. It made a much louder sound than it should’ve. “There has to be some way we can convince her.” 

“But she doesn’t want to be convinced.” Mina had curled up on the sofa, Sana beside her. “We can’t force her to face anything.”

“And if it’s the only way to help her?” Momo asked softly. “What if she thinks she doesn’t deserve to get those emotions back? That she doesn’t deserve to be accepted by her people? Those're the wrong reasons." 

They were all silent then. It was a fear Tzuyu had as well. If Gerst had said that other fae would be helped by this, she was sure Dahyun would have showed the rest her memories. Except this time, because it only affected Dahyun, she wouldn’t do it. It showed her selflessness, while also proving that this was one of the few moments where she wanted to spare herself of pain and risk. 

Tzuyu closed her eyes. She thought back to the night when Dahyun had first told them her story. 

_Even if there was peace, I would never be allowed to return, not even as a corpse._

But her clan would let her return if she opened her mind to them. Then again, because of the protection her sadness had given her, Dahyun had never been completely exposed to a mental fae. It was the same thing that had protected Tzuyu from being taken over. It was the same thing that had led to Rila using fear against her instead. 

Dahyun had been overcome by that fear. It was joined by the fear of being exposed to someone who could torment her again. 

_I murdered several of my own kind, including Helen, who was younger than I was and not ready to die_.

Yes, there was shame. Dahyun wasn't a killer, despite having killed. She carried those deaths with her. Even now, separate from the guilt for those fae, she’d still been overcome by the grief felt by their families. Whatever guilt had been taken from her, she’d probably rebuilt it immediately. Just as she still trusted them. 

But Tzuyu remembered the day she’d told her not to be controlled by her guilt. She hadn't taken her emotions back when she should have. 

_I should have destroyed all that was there, but I was scared of what pain it would bring about and I did not want to go back to that place._

What if the way they’d go through her memories involved reliving those exact moments? What if it brought those emotions back full force?

“We’re not convincing her to do anything,” Tzuyu said. “If she knows what she’s avoiding. If she knows a way where she doesn't have to live through those moments of her life, then we let her avoid it.” 

All eyes were on her then. She felt very self-conscious, but it had to be said. 

“But she can’t keep living like this,” Jeongyeon replied. “It’s all been hell for her. You felt it,” she nodded at Tzuyu and Nayeon, “we still see it. And none of it’s faded. Not even a little.” 

“She never sleeps,” Momo added. “Her night's always filled with anything else she can do. Maybe catch up on her reading, or make new clothes, anything.” She met each of their eyes. “And she’ll find some excuse about her not being human, but it’s not hard to see that she’s slowly being drained by it. Again.” 

“I can’t sleep,” Tzuyu’s nose started to burn, “if I close my eyes, I can see what they did to Teresa. If it’s quiet, I hear her screaming. If I’m alone, I can feel what they did to Dahyun. And I always see what I was running from.” She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. Just talking about it made those very things seep into her senses, tainting them yet again. “But I can’t—if I had the choice between going through everything they did to me and going through cycles of something that might fade eventually, or not—at least not on it’s own,” if she had enough love in her again, maybe she could get Gerst or Dahyun to help her stamp the rest out, “then I’d choose living with what I do now.” 

Hands took hold of her own, pulling them away from her face. Jihyo appeared when Tzuyu opened her eyes. She smiled at her, but it was shaky. Still, her grip was firm as she held Tzuyu’s hands. Her gaze showed Tzuyu one thing. _I'm here_. 

Jihyo didn’t say anything, but that she was there at all alleviated the pressure building in Tzuyu. Physical contact, even simple conversations helped against what Tzuyu was feeling. She had to believe that it wasn’t imagined, that someone being there for her, someone loving her, and her loving them, was helping against the fear. And if it wasn’t, then at least it felt like it. She hoped that was the same for Dahyun. 

Tzuyu found her voice again. “I know you think she’ll never be able to feel the same again,” she said. “And I know she’ll not feel the way she deserves to if she doesn’t change her mind.” She closed her eyes. “But that’s her decision to make. We’re not pushing her to anything.”

Sana’s voice broke the next silence. “And the second she thinks she’ll be helping us instead of herself, she’d do it.” Her voice trembled. "So we can't let her think that." 

Tzuyu was relieved. Sana also knew what could push Dahyun to accepting Gerst's proposal. Sana knew it would be another decision made selflessly. She hopefully knew that Dahyun needed to be able to make decisions that were in _her_ interest. Even if there was the chance that the choice wasn’t the right one, the fairy had already made plenty of choices for others that had brought her more pain than anything else. That had all been for the good of others. They had to make a decision that was good for _Dahyun_. 

“Exactly.” Tzuyu opened her eyes again to see that Sana’s were glassy.

Then Sana got to her feet. “I need,” she trailed off. “I have to go.” Then she was off. 

The rest of them went about doing what normal people were supposed to be doing—aside from the fact that it was only just reaching morning hours. They’d decided to fill yesterday evening with movies. Dahyun had agreed to it. It was either her trying, or actual progress. Both meant a lot. 

Tzuyu was in her room, getting dressed for yet another day of school. They’d be moving on to university this time. Tzuyu didn't want to go through high school again. She at least needed something in between that, which included a university degree and an actual job. 

That was when her phone buzzed. From Sana. To her, as well as Nayeon. 

**Meet me at the river where we saw G. Don’t tell the others.**

______ 

Sana clung to the piece of curiosity as though her life depended on it. In a way, a part of it did. 

Dahyun had said that Gerst and Rila’s curiosity could draw the disillusioned out of that state of mind. It had been that way for Sana. Though the scent of ice was overpowering and the constant warmth was uncomfortable, it gave her a focus like no other. Thoughts tied in for her more easily than before, drawing on connections she’d make in the back of her mind and expanding upon them. It was almost overwhelming. She felt lightheaded. She could only smell ice. It had snowed, but she couldn't differentiate between the scent of snow and curiosity. 

Now she needed to know if her idea was absolutely insane, a side effect of her not being an elemental fae used to huge amounts of emotion coursing through her. Maybe the curiosity was slowly making her delusional. It all made sense to her now. 

Nayeon arrived first, followed closely by Tzuyu. The latter wore her uniform. Nayeon raised an expectant eyebrow at her. 

Sana shook her head. They had to be further away from both vampire and fairy ears alike. 

She led them all the way to the other side of the forest. It was far from their town and a decent distance away from the other. She found a place that would hopefully make things less overwhelming for Gerst. 

“I had an idea,” Sana said. 

“Which had you rushing out of the house?” Nayeon asked. “That’s Dahyun’s thing.”

The statement took her aback, but she got her explanation out. “I need to know if it’s possible and if it’s even the right thing to do.”

“And what is it?”

Sana looked between the two. “I think there’s a way to show them the memories of what happened without Dahyun having to go through anything.” It sounded completely ridiculous coming out of her mouth. “And when Gerst comes I need you to explain that connection you had with Dahyun.” She paused, folding her hands together to steady herself. “And I need you to tell me if what I’m planning is doing more harm than good. Or way off some other way.” 

“No problem.” Tzuyu smiled weakly. 

If everything worked as it needed to, maybe they could also get Tzuyu out of what she was going through. Sana only felt echoes of that fear in Dahyun. It wasn’t something either should've ever been feeling and Sana wanted nothing more than to stop that. Yet Sana also wouldn’t force either to that could strengthen that fear. Tzuyu was right. That could only be a decision made by Dahyun and Tzuyu. One that didn’t take the rest of them into account. 

Gerst’s scent reached them. She saw him in the distance. The fairy carried another small bag with him. 

“It is incredible how you humans can manage this world.” He sat down in front of them, the exhaustion plain on his fae as all illusions fell away. “I can hardly handle an hour there.”

“Do you need a break?” Sana asked. She didn’t bother correcting him that 'you humans' didn't apply to any of them. 

He shook his head, his eyes turning yellow for a few seconds. “I’ll be fine.” A smile started to appear as he looked at Sana. “You’re as hopeful as you are doubtful.”

Sana had gone over again and again what she’d wanted to ask him. How she’d explain what had been happening. Now she just had to hope she didn’t sound completely ridiculous. 

“I can feel Dahyun’s emotions,” Sana said. Even if the feelings were distant, if she concentrated, Sana could feel them. She didn’t know at who they were directed, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. She wished she could tell Dahyun that she wasn’t doing anything wrong by saying no. “Right now, I know she’s confused, angry, guilty, and scared, but it’s a new fear.”

Gerst’s eyes lightened. His brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened. “True,” he murmured. 

Nayeon and Tzuyu were looking at her with equally perplexed expressions. 

“And when she was taking away the protection in our minds, I saw her if I closed my eyes.” Sana described the blue form she’d seen, with alternating shades of blue with black and grey surrounding it. As she spoke, she realised that those movements mirrored those of the emotions on Dahyun’s skin. The curiosity in her hands was helping her make that connection.

She blinked a few times. Was the fatigue getting to her? She hadn’t drunk anything in a few hours. Maybe the two combined were having that effect. 

There was a mix of awe and disbelief on Gerst’s face. “And what do you think is the cause?”

Sana sighed. “It might make sense after they tell you, but I think it has to do with this.” She let her eyes turn purple. “Vampires have eyes like this after they turn. I don’t know why. I always thought it meant about as much as a normal person’s eyes do.” But not anymore. Not after Dahyun had come into their lives and attached meaning to so many aspects of the world, including those colours. 

Nayeon spoke then. “It wasn’t that strong for me, but when she first left, I knew she was safe that whole time.” She told him about the unwavering calm she'd had, despite all of it missing from the house. 

Tzuyu jumped in to add how her thoughts had spiralled and she could never get the scent of sadness out of her head. Sana had no idea she’d been so affected even before Yrest had come. 

“And then we were able to feel some of what she’d felt—what she’d gone through later,” Nayeon explained. “We saw some of the memories they’d forced her to feel without being close to her or the emotions flaring up.” 

As they spoke, both of their eyes changed colour. Tzuyu’s were still grey and dark blue, while Nayeon’s were a pale blue. 

“But not anymore,” Tzuyu said. “Not after she took the sadness away.”

Gerst’s eyes were ever-changing. The shades of gold fluctuated between bright and dark. They glazed over before refocusing. 

“May I see if those emotions are more pronounced for you?”

Sana found herself hesitating. Letting Dahyun into her mind had been one thing. Rila and Yrest another, one that had been terrifying to no end. This lay somewhere in between. 

But if Sana’s plan could work, this would pale in comparison to what might await her. 

“You can look through my head,” Sana said. She was getting a light heat flush all across her body. She’d never felt anything like that before, especially not as a vampire. Maybe when she was sick as a human. 

“Mine too,” Nayeon added. 

There was a long moment of silence. 

“Same here.” Tzuyu’s jaw was clenched, the groove in her cheek on display. 

Gerst’s voice was kind. “If my suspicions are correct, I won’t need to look through each of your minds.”

Tzuyu looked like she wanted to protest, but the way her body relaxed said enough. Sana didn’t blame her in the slightest. She was still dreading having someone go through her emotions again. This would be even further than that. Gerst would be looking to see where love factored in for Sana. That meant he’d see what Sana felt for Dahyun. Fae like him and Dahyun probably had different decisions for the word, but for Sana her feelings were more than slightly private. 

Then she felt the presence in her mind. It made her tense. She remembered not being able to control her limbs, not being able to speak. She remembered how emotions had flowed into her head without pause.   


Nayeon’s hand shot out and held hers. Sana squeezed back. 

No emotion was coming from the presence. No emotion was being taken away either. Dahyun’s time with them, as well as away from them, had shown them what this magic was capable of. They’d seen what risks came with it for those vulnerable to it. That included the wielder. 

And now here they were. It was a lot of trust to put in someone who was a little above being a stranger to them. 

The presence remained like a piece of clothing. Sana could ignore the feeling of it, but only if she got caught up with something else. 

Like watching Gerst. His eyes had turned from light blue to gold to blue again. Then purple, light gold, and then back to purple. There’d even been flashes of bright green. His face had remained in an expression awfully similar to Dahyun’s when she concentrated. Sana was reminded of how Dahyun had watched films or how she’d sat in class with exactly that look. 

Then the pressure lifted, Sana relaxed, and Gerst’s eyes refocused. The sun was brighter now. She wasn’t sure if thirty minutes had passed or an hour. Again, the presence of a fae like Dahyun blended time together. After Dahyun had left, Sana had felt just about every second. 

“I still don’t know how, when, or why it might've arisen,” Gerst said. “but you're indeed closely tied to the emotions corresponding to your eye colours. Far more than the humans in that street,” he pointed to it, “or any of your other emotions.”

Sana chose not to comment on the fact that he’d looked though the humans’ minds without their permission. “What do you think that means for us?” 

“Each of you are connected to Dahyun in ways not shared by the rest,” he looked down at his hands, “though I was never connected to Rila in that way.” His brow furrowed, but he didn’t flinch at the name. Not like they did. “And where does this come into what you’re planning?”

“Can you usually see memories through emotions?” Sana asked. She knew Dahyun had never looked if that was the case. Had she never tried? Or was it just not possible?

“Usually only if the other gave that willingly, or if the emotion is like this,” he held up another golden fragment, “but even then you'll rarely know their thoughts. One more just sees fragments of memory.” His eyes darkened. “Which is not enough for the others, if that was your question.” 

Sana felt a pit of doubt lodge itself in her throat. Did that mean she was wrong? 

“What is it that you want to do?” Gerst asked. He looked expectant, but not insistent. A lot like Dahyun did. Even now. 

“Do you think it’d be possible for them to see Dahyun’s memories through me?” Sana asked. “That they can find the memories that’ll convince them that Dahyun never deserved any of this?” And that only Sana would be plunged into those moments. Not Dahyun. 

The fairy was quiet for a long tine. Just like Dahyun, he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with empty words. Sana wished he would. Or that he could at least talk them through what he was thinking. 

One of her questions had been answered. She wasn’t being completely delusional. And if Nayeon and Tzuyu’s silence was anything to go by, she also wasn’t having a completely terrible thought process. Unless they were waiting until Gerst had gone to tell her that. 

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I’m reluctant to try, as I don’t know what it could do to either of you.” His expression grew pained. “But I do believe it's possible.” 

“Couldn’t you use a point of reference?” Tzuyu asked. “Like a fae who fell in love with someone? A connection like that, but with people who have all their emotions?”

“Perhaps.” A sigh. “It would take long and be difficult to push such a case. Few still have the romantic love you possess for another,” he looked at Sana and Nayeon, “myself included. And the search would be all for nothing if the connection is nothing like what we hope for.”

We. That meant Gerst believed her. At least she hoped it did.

Another connection sprung into her mind then. The dizziness had increased. She ignored it. 

“And what about the one who left your clan?” Sana asked. “The one with the core emotion of love. She’s the closest to this situation isn’t it? She fell in love and kept that love as well.” Or at least she hoped the fae had. 

Gerst nodded. “Neither she nor that clan opposed ours. Perhaps I could see.” He paused. “The issue I see could be the connection itself. If anyone went through that memory in your mind, it still belongs to Dahyun. If that tie comes into play and is not severed, then both of you would experience it.” His brow furrowed. “And I don't know what drawback that may have on either of you, only that she would relive it, while you’d live through those events for the first time.”

Sana had only gotten glimpses of two, but they’d dragged her down completely. Dahyun would be faced with everything she’d suffered a second time. Or was it now a third? She didn’t know what Dahyun had truly gone through after what Rila had done to her. She might have been stuck in that cycle of fear and grief several times over, even though it had only been a few hours. 

“Could Dahyun be overwhelmed again?” Nayeon’s jaw was tight. 

“It’s not impossible. Though if the connection between the two of you is completely open, the risk increases.”

And Dahyun would fall into that state again. Maybe they could get her out, but just being in it again would break her further. Sana wouldn’t take that risk. It would make everything worse.

“I can’t risk it,” Sana said. She wrapped her arms around herself. The warmth from before was stifling. She felt dizzier too. “No matter how small that chance is, we can’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Gerst said. A pause. “Let me find out what I can. I contact Etera, come back the moment I know what happens, and send a message to you before I return.” He fixed her with a hard look. “If there is a risk to you, Dahyun would never agree to it. And I will not lie to her.” 

The thought had crossed her mind. Could Sana lie to her?

_Just don’t lie to me_. 

Yet Dahyun had lied to them before. She’d done it to protect them and it'd nearly cost her her life. Dahyun still paid for that choice now. Had they known what would come of her decision, none of them would have let her make that sacrifice. And if Dahyun knew now, she would never let Sana do it either. On the one hand, it was hypocritical. On the other, Sana knew she would do the same. That made her a hypocrite as well. 

“We find out how it works first,” Sana began, “then we’ll work on what to do next.” 

If there was any chance that Dahyun could be affected or hurt in the process, they’d do nothing. If the risk only applied to Sana, she would go through with it. The prospect terrified her. She didn’t have the protection of Dahyun’s sadness anymore. They could control her completely, search her mind for whatever they wanted, place something else in her head to torment her or change her. She had no idea what they were truly capable of, only that they were powerful. Far more powerful than any vampire she knew. She would be powerless. Again. 

As Gerst nodded, clearly relieved, Sana was overcome by a wave of nausea. The scent of ice overwhelmed her and her entire body warmed. 

“Let go of it.” Gerst’s voice sounded distant. 

Sana hadn’t realised she was still holding the curiosity. She'd forgotten.

Then she wasn't holding it anymore. Gerst'd absorbed it. 

The weird warmth left her, while the normal chill of winter met her head on. She still felt ill. 

Sana’s legs gave out. Her vision had become tinged with gold. But she wasn’t holding on to the emotion anymore. How was that happening?

“Get her home. I’ll get Dahyun,” Gerst said. 

“Why do you have to get her?” She heard Tzuyu ask. 

Sana didn’t hear the response.   


She wanted to protest. Dahyun would know what'd happened immediately. And Sana knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to her. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to speak. She was too dizzy. How could the curiosity have such an effect on her?

The last thing she remembered seeing was Nayeon’s face. It was pulled together by worry. 

Then everything turned black and Sana was only left with the scent of ice. 

______

Momo slung her bag over her shoulder. Another day in. Sometimes she doubted keeping up the facade in the first place. It would matter in ten years, but would it in a hundred years?

“Momo?” Mina’s voice stopped her from getting too deep into her thoughts. “Do you think you could not go to school today?”

“Sure,” Momo turned back towards the house, “why?”

“We’re not going there.” She nodded towards where the town was. “Next one.”

Momo nodded. 

Running was a welcome change. The change of scenery even better. 

They were on the outskirts of the next town, by a large park. 

A jogger had seen them. 

“You didn’t see two girls appear out of mid-air,” Mina said. The magic made her voice resonate.

He blinked, then kept running. 

Mina was frowning. “It seems worse to do that now.”

Momo knew why. It stripped someone of their control. They couldn’t resist. While the humans didn’t know what they did, it still took away their freedom. _They_ were taking that away. Just as the fae had done to them. Except they knew exactly that it had happened. Momo didn’t think she could ever forget. Even before that day, she’d been under someone else’s control once before. She never wanted to experience something like it ever again.

“I know,” Momo replied. 

Mina walked to a nearby bench, sitting down. Some tension seemed to leave her body then. 

Momo joined her. They sat there, watching people go about their days. Some were on their way to work, others were parents with young children. 

“Why’re we here?” Momo asked. It only smelled of forests and cars. The scent of winter was at a natural low, while that of rot was barely there. 

“Do you still love her?” Mina paused for a moment. “And I don’t mean the way the rest of us do, I know you do, but I,” she faltered. 

She didn’t have to continue. It wasn’t something she wanted to discuss, but that was probably exactly the reason why they were here. 

“If I love her like Sana does,” Momo finished. 

“Don’t compare it,” Mina said. “Do you love her, as in, are you in love with her?”

What did Mina want her to say? Yes? That she did, but didn’t any more? That she wasn’t sure?

“Because if you figure that out later, when she’s hopefully reaching some type of normalcy, everything'll get a lot more complicated.” 

“And you think I’ll figure out right now?” Momo asked. “Do I have to remind you how long it took you to realise what you were feeling?”

“No,” Mina said. “And I regret taking so long. You will too.” 

“Unless I realise the opposite.” The thought made her stomach twist. What if that happened? What would that mean if she didn't actually love Dahyun anymore? All because of how she'd changed. 

“Do you think you will?” Mina’s brow furrowed. “Or do you want to?”

“I don’t know,” Momo snapped. She flinched from her own tone. “Sorry.” She looked at her hands. 

She just smiled softly. “Don’t be. I pushed you.” Her hand took hold of Momo’s. “When she told us about what she gave up trying to save Teresa. We asked her what she felt for you two.” 

Momo found herself looking up at that. 

“She said she loved you. Both of you, but she didn’t understand what that meant. Especially not then.” Her grip tightened. “But she said that. Meant it too.” 

“That doesn’t make a difference,” Momo closed her eyes, “not anymore.” How many times had Sana and her said they'd talk about it? One of them had always ended up avoiding the conversation. 

“And that’s where we still disagree,” Mina replied. “It may not be the way you want her to, but she still loves you and Sana. In a way she doesn’t love us, but she still trusts us.”

“What are you trying to prove?” She still couldn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to see the certainty in Mina’s eyes. To see something she didn’t have. “Say you’re right, she’s still unreachable. She’ll be distant for years. That’s nothing I can,” the words caught in her throat, as though her body didn’t want to say them, “it’s nothing I can put up with.” 

“And that’s okay too,” Mina said. “It’s nothing a normal person ever has to deal with. Not even vampires.” An empty chuckle. “But you need to know if you can handle that. If you can’t, it’s fine, but if you can, then you have to show her that. Dahyun doesn’t think she’s herself anymore. Maybe she’s right, even if the some of us don’t think so, or she’s wrong.” A pause. "And some of us are reinforcing the fact that she's not Dahyun anymore." 

There was a tug on her hand. 

Momo knew she had to open her eyes. She hesitated, feeling pathetic for doing so. “And if I can’t, that means I’ve given up on her.” Because she wasn't strong enough to love her when things became difficult. 

“No,” Mina’s voice was hard, “like you said, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re there for her. She’s one of us.” 

Momo only nodded. Dahyun‘s home with them now. Whether or not she was the same didn’t change that. "But I can't do that to Sana, or Dahyun. She won't understand."   


It wasn't as if Momo had never been a polyamorous relationship. There were ways to make it work, but you needed to understand the concept. Sana and her had even been in one or two before. It had stopped being polyamorous soon after when Sana had turned her attention to someone else. Before that moment, it had worked fine. Sana wasn't the jealous type when it came to Momo. She definitely was when it came to anyone else. 

"She'd learn," Mina replied. "And did Sana ever tell you to back off?"

The way she said it, Momo knew that Mina knew the answer to that question.

Arms went around her then, pulling her into a tight hug. Momo sank into it. 

“I just don’t want you to struggle with this for years. That’s worse than letting her go,” Mina murmured. “You need to decide what’s best for you.” 

She realised then that she hadn’t been held by anyone recently either or held anyone. She also hadn’t actually spoken to the other girls. Not Mina, not Nayeon, and not Sana. Before Mina today, the only person she’d actually talked to was Dahyun. Someone who'd also told her exactly what she was feeling. Someone who knew how close Momo was to giving up on her .   


______ 

Dahyun barely felt the cold when it surged this time. Her focus was on the person in front of her. She was surrounded by gold, her eyes fluttering open from time to time, revealing deep purple irises. 

“How long had she held it for?” Dahyun asked. She forced blue into the physical world. The effort gave her a slight pain, but she managed. 

Gerst had told her that Sana'd held on to a core emotion for too long. He'd thought Dahyun had told them what issues came with that. What dangers there were. 

“Since Gerst gave it to her in the forest,” Nayeon replied. “And you’re sure she’s,” she faltered. Her worry had hardly subsided. 

“She’s alright,” Dahyun said. “I know the emotion that works against it.” She took Sana’s hand, turning it so that her palm faced upwards. Then she pressed a shard of dark blue into it. She took hold of the other hand, allowing some sadness to seep into Sana that way. Her skin was warm. Not hot as anger was, but still much too warm. “Her own curiosity strengthened the effect of the emotion,” she fought a sigh, “what were you talking about for that to happen?” She knew very well that they had met with Gerst. What would the explanation be now? 

“Sana had an idea,” Tzuyu said. “She wanted to know if it could work.” 

“Could it?” She’d ask Sana when she woke up. Or later. There was a degree of guilt still remaining in her mind, as well as some doubt in that of the other two. The rest did not share this. They did not know what Sana’s idea had been, only Nayeon and Tzuyu did.

“Maybe.” Nayeon looked from her to Sana. “We’re not sure yet.” 

Yet. That meant no decisions had been reached. She hoped so. 

“Alright,” Dahyun said. 

Sana had not yet stirred. Dahyun knew how to wake her up, but she did not. Undisturbed sleep was something to cherish. Though Sana hadn't admitted it, the night she’d come to Dahyun, she'd fallen fast asleep. It had been one without a nightmare. It was then that Dahyun had realised that few of the others slept. Tzuyu never did. She knew why that was. 

Dahyun would help her the moment she could. It was just not possible. At least not yet. 

“Hungry?” Nayeon asked. “I can bring something up.” 

Dahyun shook her head. “I can get something later.” 

She gave her a look. “I’ll bring up two plates.” 

There was a rush of warmth then. Dahyun should have known Nayeon wouldn’t listen. 

The two left. 

Sana’s breathing had evened out. Her skin had also begun to cool. Dahyun needed to make sure it would not be too much. She let some calm seep in, the one she'd gotten from Gerst. It was warm as curiosity was, but far more slow acting. It wasn’t excitable either. 

That action stung. Dahyun closed her eyes, but didn’t let go of Sana. 

That was when she heard her stir. 

Dahyun let go this time. What if the emotional pain had reached her? She didn’t know how or why, but perhaps it had. 

“Dahyun?” Sana murmured. The hand she’d let go of moved across the bed. 

“Here.” She took the hand again. Then she absorbed the shard of sadness. It soothed the pain in her mind, hopefully it would do the same for Sana.

Sana's eyes opened, still purple. Dahyun found comfort just looking into them. She made her own eyes turn brown then. Sana didn’t need that reminder now. 

“Sadness goes against curiosity?” 

Another small surge of warmth. “Yes,” Dahyun said. 

“Makes sense.” Sana sat up, wincing. “How can an emotion do this?” She massaged her temple with her free hand. "I haven't felt this sick in a while." 

“You held a great amount of it, a core emotion,” she replied. “And joined with your own, you overdosed on it. In a way.” 

“That's why you didn’t want those emotions to be outside of your clan?”

“One of them," Dahyun said. "A large enough exposure would drive someone mad." She'd never even tried such a thing, but others had. Only a few, but it'd been enough.

“It's not for vampires either.” Sana laughed softly. A soft orange hue of amusement appeared. Dahyun was glad to see it. 

“Did you notice how it affected you?” Dahyun asked. 

There was a degree of embarrassment in the air. “I thought I was hungry.”

“And what did it feel like?” 

Sana looked away, a small smile on her face. “I felt pretty warm, dizzy too, almost sick.” Then she sighed. “I know, I should’ve known better.” 

“Indeed.” Dahyun squeezed her hand. “You were a bit of a fool.” She felt a rising feeling of warmth again. 

Sana's humour strengthened. “But I’m your fool.” She winked. 

Dahyun laughed. The warmth had been humour of her own. It came so much more easily. 

Surprise appeared. Sana’s mouth fell open. 

“What?”

Sana chewed on her lip. “It’s great to see you laugh again.” 

“Don’t you mean hear?” Dahyun asked. 

She chuckled. “That too.” 

There was a small silence. One that was comfortable. 

“Though I do see why you hadn’t noticed it was because of the curiosity,” Dahyun said. “I can imagine you were, as they say, on quite a roll.” 

Her smile grew. “You could say that.”

They were quiet again. Dahyun could smell food being made. Only Nayeon and Tzuyu were there. She wondered how all of them handled the news Gerst had brought. Some held emotions close to disappointment, but not Sana. There was doubt, but it wasn’t wholly directed at Dahyun. She wondered why. 

“You probably wanna know why I talked to Gerst?” Sana asked. Her eyes were fixed on the opposite wall. 

There was guilt with that statement. Dahyun knew that Sana wouldn’t force her. Nothing spoke to that being the case, but was it the withholding of information? She didn’t know. She only wished that Sana wouldn’t feel guilt for it. 

“Whatever you’re ready to say.” 

Sana tilted her head to the side. Confusion appeared. 

“You had an idea.” The words made Dahyun feel warm. “If it still needs time, then it’s not ready to be said aloud.” 

Sana’s smile was soft then. “But I can tell you something.” 

Dahyun didn’t say anything. She could feel Sana’s anticipation rise, though there was still some doubt leftover. No guilt, but she was nervous. 

“I still don’t know how,” Sana said. “But I know what you’re feeling. Your emotions. When I close my eyes, I can still see you, but you’re blue and,” she bit her lip then, “surrounded by black and grey.”

“Go on.” Dahyun squeezed her hands again. There was more Sana wanted to say. 

Sana closed her eyes. Dahyun felt her own anticipation rise. What would it mean if Sana could truly feel her emotions? How had that happened? 

“You’re a little confused, excited,” a small smile, “and curious.” 

Dahyun could only stare. It was exactly that. 

“And now you’re even more confused,” Sana opened her eyes, “and shocked, but you're not doubting what I’m saying. At all.”

Dahyun shook her head. “Why not?” she asked.

“It’s not my magic,” Sana trailed off, “this shouldn't be happening.”

“Maybe,” Dahyun said. “But neither should immortality. Strictly speaking.” She let herself focus on Sana’s eyes, however distracting they were. 

“But even there,” Sana frowned, “this should've been impossible.” 

Dahyun felt a smile growing. “You’ve had this confirmed at least twice now. Why do you now doubt it?”

“It’s a lot to take in,” she said. “I don’t know what I should think.” 

“Too much at once?” Dahyun asked. “Some associations are easily made, while the rest need a bit more work?” 

Sana nodded. 

“It will take time.” She looked down at their hands. Hers were smaller than Sana’s, but they still fit together. “I could make a catalogue of sorts. So you know more or less what you’re seeing.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Sana tilted her head into Dahyun's line of sight. “Me seeing your emotions?”

Dahyun shook her head again. “On the one hand, you could say we’re even.” The words felt empty to say. She didn’t want that. “And I trust you. I have for some time, and that hasn’t changed.” She doubted it ever would. “I hope you do as well, despite the lies I’ve told.”

There was a wave of emotion then. Dahyun saw green in the air, as well as streaks of purple, and then more green. 

“I do,” Sana said, her eyes shining. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Lunch?” Nayeon asked, coming in with a tray. 

“Your timing was a little to perfect,” Sana grinned, “you were waiting.” 

“‘Course.” She set it down on the bed. “And you better be hungry. I made this all by myself.” 

“Be careful,” Sana whispered. 

Dahyun wanted to laugh. She’d have to do with a smile. 

“Did Tzuyu go to school?” she asked before eating. It was an extravagant salad with warm chicken strips and all sorts of vegetables. It reminded Dahyun of what she often ate with her people. The taste tugged at a memory. She saw a flicker of green appear with it. 

Nayeon nodded. “I told her she could stay here. Jihyo was probably ready to excuse us.” 

It probably made for a good distraction. Dahyun had found it in reading and the other avenues of her magic.

“I could neutralise the fear,” Dahyun said between bites. “I might have a foundation good enough to help there.” 

Two sets of emotions spiked then. “No.” Both of them were in full synchronisation. 

“No mights or maybes,” Nayeon said. “Only when you’re sure you’ll be okay.” 

Dahyun wished she could tell her that she would be alright, but that was a ‘maybe’ as well. 

“And it hurts you to use emotions like that,” Nayeon continued. “So for a lot of this, we just need time.” 

“We have a lot of that,” Dahyun replied. It felt like a promise. One she fully intended to keep. 

Nayeon’s mouth broke into a broad smile. “That we do.” 

In the next moment, Momo appeared at Sana’s other side. Her expression was contorted by worry. Mina followed soon after.   


“What happened?” She looked between them. “Everything smells like ice.”   


Dahyun let Nayeon and Sana explain. She watched as Momo grew more and more confused. Then there was a small amount of humour. 

“You idiot.” Momo was smiling. 

Mina nodded along with her, reaching for Sana's other hand. 

Dahyun chuckled. “I said the same thing!” 

Sana was less surprised, as were Nayeon and Mina, but Momo looked at her as though she’d said something outrageous. Dahyun knew it had been some time since she’d shown much more than a smile. She knew that none of them expected such a thing either. Yet she saw joy soar in all four of them. 

And then she saw doubt start to seep into Momo’s emotions. She saw it on her face as well. 

Then it vanished from her expression. Momo took a forkful of Sana’s salad, much to the latter's dismay. 

Dahyun watched the lighthearted conversation unfold. It was good to see. There had been little of that recently. 

Yet she couldn’t ignore the emotions that still lingered within Momo. There was uncertainty, hope, and guilt. They were directed at Dahyun, but also Momo herself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another age-long chapter. I feel like a terrible person for this being a surprise, but having fluffy sort of scenes is almost foreign for this story.
> 
> But it’s not all without a few uncertainties. What is to come of Sana’s plan? Would Dahyun agree to it once she hears it in its entirety? 
> 
> And then we have Momo. There's still the question of what will happen now. While Dahyun’s emotions have become shadows of what they once were, those of Sana’s remain. However, the same still applies to Momo. 
> 
> Would love to know your thoughts on where we stand. 
> 
> See you in the next chapter.


	26. Not yet

“How the hell does this stick so much with me?” Sana gritted her teeth. She’d thought everything was fine while lying down. The moment she got to her feet, warmth coursed through her—uncomfortably. The nausea was still there, steadily growing stronger. 

“It’s like a sensitivity you have to curiosity,” Dahyun replied. “That, and some of it is still in your body.” 

“So I stop asking questions?” 

Dahyun smiled. Sana thought it was one of the most beautiful things she'd seen in years. “Normally I’d say no, but it might help.” A small furrow appeared in her brow. “I would help more, but there’s a risk of you experiencing a deep melancholy if I would.” 

They started to go down the stairs. 

Sana remembered the weeks after Dahyun had left. She recalled the ache in her mind and body that never faded. 

“Is that how you felt when the second core emotion came?” The next wave of dizziness passed over her. Sana nearly toppled over her feet.

Dahyun’s grip on her tightened. Sana was still unaccustomed to non-vampires being so strong, unless they were werewolves. 

“I’ll answer your question, but for the moment, no follow-up ones,” Dahyun said. Her eyes were almost playful. Sana could _feel_ the changes happening. 

Then they were downstairs. Momo and Nayeon were there. It wasn’t hard to figure out that something was troubling Momo. Even if she wiped it away, the moments where that struggle showed through was enough. Sana wished she could do something to help, but Momo probably wouldn't let her in. Not yet. 

“For just a moment,” Dahyun turned to her, “you must temper your curiosity.” She scrunched up her face. “I don’t like saying such a thing.”

"I know." Sana laughed and poked her cheek. “But I get what you mean. After this, I’ll bombard you with all my questions.” 

She nodded. “I hope you do.” 

Sana felt another change. It was a warmth that was very different to that of curiosity. If she concentrated on it, she saw flickers of purple coming from Dahyun. 

Her heart swelled at the sight of it. 

“Alright,” Dahyun squeezed her hand, “we’ll sit down, you'll drink something, and I’ll answer your question.”

Nayeon already had a cup ready. She looked at Dahyun, her brow raised. 

“This is very _very_ normal for us now, but do you find this disgusting?” the semi-eldest asked. “Not gonna lie, I found it nasty at the start.” 

Dahyun looked at the blood. “It’s nothing I’d add to my diet,” she said. “but if I’m not mistaken, blood doesn't taste metallic for you?”

Sana could feel how Dahyun’s curiosity rose. Seeing it made her a bit dizzier. 

“No,” Sana said. “Sometimes it almost tastes like real food for us.” Once she’d tasted blood that was incredibly sweet, almost like a fruit. 

“And it keeps you alive,” she added. “Though how blood ought to do that physiologically, I’m not sure.” Then her eyes lit up, the illusions of brown falling away as she did. “Perhaps you’re able to process the nutrients better in the blood itself, though,” her brow furrowed, “a vampire’s brute strength and such doesn’t quite disappear when you’ve not drunk anything.”

Sana smiled. “You’re gonna think we’re bad supernaturals, but I’ve never actually considered the ‘how’ when it comes to our diet.” 

“Which you shouldn’t,” Dahyun said. “At least not now.” A pause. “And I rarely stopped to think about how immortality ought to work. Too many questions tended to overshadow it.” Her brow rose. “To your question, however, when the sadness became a proper part of me, the mere thought of it had made the feelings worse. It drained me, so much so that I didn’t want to do anything at all.” Her eyes grew thoughtful. “It frightened me. So I withdrew from that part of reality completely.”

Sana felt dizzy again. She wanted to know if Dahyun had _properly_ confided in others or just handled it alone as she would now. But no, she had gone to Rila then. Rila had helped her. Sana had seen a few seconds of how things _used_ to be. In the memory that she’d seen, Rila had seemed as kind and warm as Dahyun had. What had changed?

Then a comfortable sense of cool flowed through her. The scent of mountain air strengthened. Sana relaxed. A small sense of heaviness settled over her. 

“You are terrible at not being curious.” The edge of Dahyun’s irises were dark blue. It was a small change, but still a change. 

Then Dahyun pulled her hand away. The cool feeling remained, but it wasn’t that heavy. 

“So what did you talk to Gerst about?” Momo looked from Nayeon to Sana. 

“She had an idea.” Dahyun almost sounded eager. A smile played on her lips. Green flickered around her. 

Sana’s nose burned then. How had something like this made Dahyun happy? How had Sana managed to do that with four words?

But Dahyun didn’t know everything. Sana hadn’t told her everything. Wasn’t that as good as lying? She didn’t want to lie to her. It felt wrong. So wrong. 

“It’s something we’re gonna know more about when he comes back,” Nayeon said. 

The response was rushed. Sana almost commented on it. Then she realised why Nayeon was trying to change the subject. Just explaining what she’d told Dahyun—what would that mean for Momo? This was a connection no one understood. That meant Sana barely had an idea about _why_ it existed. What would Momo think?

Dahyun stood then. “I’m getting something to read,” she looked down at her, “I’ll be right back.” A small twitch of her lip. Then she walked off. 

Momo was frowning at Sana. “What are you planning?” she mouthed. 

“Later,” Sana mouthed back. Another case where she didn’t want to lie. 

When Momo found out about everything, Sana would have to hammer in how ‘everything’ didn’t suggest any more than what it was. She didn’t know where Momo stood now. Sana was still taken aback by what Momo thought about Dahyun’s situation and she had no idea what was going through Momo's mind about everything else. She also wasn’t sure if she was supposed to ask her about it. Momo shut down when she was confronted by it.

Maybe Sana just had to give her the headspace to figure it out. No matter what the decision ended up being, it had to be made at some point. Of the things Sana had learned, of the choices she’d faced, one of the most important decisions had been telling Dahyun what she felt. She didn’t know what would’ve happened if she’d stayed silent, only that everything would’ve been worse. 

She knew what she wanted Momo’s choice to be. Sana wanted Momo to be honest with herself _and_ Dahyun. She _knew_ that Momo loved her. She also knew that if Momo turned away for selfless reasons, she’d be setting herself up for years of regret. And she'd be turning away from someone wonderful. 

The sofa’s cushions sank beside her. Dahyun pulled her legs up and propped her Greek mythology book on her knees. 

“You’ve too many questions in your mind,” the fairy murmured. There was a tiny surge of the sadness in Sana, quelling the uncomfortable warmth once again. “Ask one of them. Some sort of closure should help.” 

Most of the questions Sana had weren’t ones to ask. Not now at least. She thought of the things she still wanted to know about Dahyun, about her life before. 

“How similar are elves to fairies?” Dizziness surged, but it was quickly roped back in. Through another small amount of sadness. 

Dahyun smiled then, fully. “Our ears are just about the same, except perhaps theirs are a bit longer,” she replied. “There are some whose magic extends to the elements as is the case with other fae. I have never seen any with magic like that of my clan nor those like the mental fae. At least to that extent.”

The thought was calming. Not even more who could strip the control of a person away. 

“They specialise as well,” Dahyun said. “If that makes any sense.”

“Like snow and sea elves being different?” Momo asked. “White hair versus blue skin?”

“Sometimes it is so,” a small pause, “but it goes deeper than that too. Their magic isn’t always specific to their blood. I know a few who had control of the elements, but developed ties to the moon.”

“The moon?” Sana repeated. She ignored the weird warmth that returned. Dahyun was right. She sucked at this. 

“With some, I know that moonlight makes them stronger,” Dahyun said. “A part of me has wondered whether or not this had any connections to the myths of Selene or Artemis.” She traced the edge of a page, her eyes full of tenderness. "None can control the way the moon crosses the sky, for reasons only obvious to me now.” A chuckle, followed by a small surge in the scent of hazelnut. 

It was such a specific scent, but Sana couldn’t think of any reason for it. She couldn’t draw many connections between mountains or forests either. 

Just wondering about it made her head feel heavy. 

Dahyun took her hand. Her skin was cool. She continued to speak. “It is quite the sight to behold. Either they glow, or it seems as though they hold the moon in their eyes.” And there was the disconnect, one that coloured Dahyun’s words. Where there should have been awe, there was nothing. 

Sana had nearly been caught up in all of the changes she’d seen, but that was a reminder that not all was well. Not yet. 

“What kind of magic?” Momo sat down on Dahyun’s other side. Sana was happy she was closing some of that distance. 

“It’s almost like this,” she made a small shard of calm, “they can make light, usually that of the moon, into something tangible.” Her brow furrowed. “At the time, I only know it fascinated me. Now I see how ludicrous that may sound, especially regarding how they manage to, essentially, create mass from the intangible.” She looked at the shard then, as if seeing it for the first time. “As can we, it would seem.”

Momo summoned a piece of ice. “It’s like this. Shouldn’t be possible at all, but here it is.” A shrug. “It’s like the universe. No definitive answer for why or how it exists. It just does.”

Dahyun smiled. “Though some dispute that fact entirely.” Her eyes were still glued to the calm. “But to think, I take this from something I deem a separate world, one that others would call a separate layer of reality.” She pursed her lips. “Just think about everything that breaks off from there. The new questions that spring up.” Her eyes widened, and Sana could feel her curiosity swell, as well as her excitement. 

“It could overturn just about every science class,” Sana said. The existence of vampires would do that too, as well as Sana and Momo’s lives before they turned. They’d been able to achieve feats that would’ve thrust beliefs deep into pits of uncertainty. 

Dahyun looked at her, her black and grey eyes surprisingly bright. “I know we can't reveal magic to humans, but just imagine what great thinkers could do with the new information? They might even find the explanations we've been looking for.” The pieces of calm disappeared and her grip on Sana’s hand tightened. “I’ll stop right there.”

Immediately, the sickly warmth faded, replaced by the feeling of cool air blowing on her skin. The sadness itself wasn't pleasant to feel, but every other facet of it was a comfort to Sana—the scent, the temperature, and knowing that it was Dahyun’s. The familiarity of each filled Sana with a sense of safety. That balanced the heaviness that was settling itself onto her shoulders. 

“So let’s take our mind off of being curious.” Nayeon also plopped down on the sofa. “Can we watch something while you read?”

Dahyun nodded. “As long as it’s not with the colourful monsters. I’d like to watch that as well.”

“Mina wants to watch it with you too,” Momo said. “Twilight?”

Nayeon groaned. “Not happening.”

“Kill-joy,” Sana shot back. “It wasn’t _that_ bad.” 

She sniffed. “It’s a generational thing. You’re too young to understand.” 

Dahyun let out a short laugh. 

Nayeon looked very smug. “I say we watch True Blood.”

Sana wouldn’t have minded, but the show could be gory and explicit in other ways. Nothing she wanted Dahyun being confronted with any time soon. Maybe it would’ve been fine, but that was would be something to ask another time. 

Momo’s expression showed she’d realised the same thing. “Gossip Girl it is.”

For a moment, Nayeon looked confused. Then her brow rose. She nodded. 

As Nayeon was getting the show up, Sana saw Dahyun lean over to Momo. 

“I still need to finish those books you gave me,” she whispered. 

A small pause. 

“You still want to?” Momo sounded as if she was in disbelief. 

“Of course,” Dahyun said. “Initially I thought I didn’t want to, but something has changed. I’m interested to see what else will happen.” Her fingers danced across the paper, as though she was making an entirely new pattern. 

Sana didn’t say anything. This was between them. She desperately wanted Momo to see what she saw. Dahyun was still with them. She wanted her to see that this was still the Dahyun they’d fallen in love with. 

A moment of silence still passed. Momo was scrambling for something to say. Was it because she was seeing something that clashed with what she thought? Or just that she was taken aback by Dahyun’s newfound curiosity?

“We’ll,” Momo trailed off, her voice almost shaky. “We’ll buddy read.”

“Buddy read?” Just from the tone, Sana knew what sort of frown would be on Dahyun’s face. 

Nayeon was taking long to find an episode. Sana was happy she was delaying. 

“You read the book together,” Momo replied. “And talk about it.”

“But you’ve already read it.”

Momo’s voice sounded warmer now. She was smiling. “I like rereading stuff. You pick up on details you didn’t notice the first time.”

“Truly?”

Sana could feel Dahyun’s interest rising again. It made her feel that warmth that didn’t belong to curiosity. 

“Yep,” Momo replied. “But first,” she paused, “you have to read the series for the first time.” 

Dahyun laughed softly. “Right.” She stopped tracing patterns on the book. “We start that tomorrow?”

Nayeon started the next episode. 

“Definitely,” Momo murmured. 

_____

“So it’s an extension of the soul?” Dahyun asked. She was looking at her hands, upon which several different shards emotions lay. “But isn't the patronus silver—perhaps white?” One of the emotions rose into the air. Its colouring was like a pearl. “That’s pride, not happy emotions.” She narrowed her eyes, as if she could find the answer in the emotion. "It can be happy, but it can also be tied to something malevolent. Many can be defeated just because of their pride." 

There was a double meaning to that sentence, but Momo didn't comment on it. 

Instead, Momo said, “I don’t think the author was writing with that perspective in mind.” They were in the library, sitting in chairs opposite each other. 

“But she’s managed to get so much beforehand,” Dahyun frowned at the book on her lap. “Green has an unnecessarily poor connotation, but much of the magic makes a lot of sense.” All of the shards of emotion vanished. It looked like they were being sucked into the air. 

“A lot of people don’t think so,” Momo replied. “They call it a soft magic system.” 

“Soft?” she repeated. “In what way?” Her brow rose, but she didn’t look frustrated. It was the physics look, but the one from before. 

“Soft magic systems aren’t explained as much as hard magic systems are,” Momo explained. “So in Harry Potter, she doesn't have to explain how magic comes out of the wand or what limits there are. But others explain pretty exactly how the magic is supposed to work and what you can’t do with it.” 

Dahyun raised an eyebrow, puffing out her cheeks. “But wouldn’t that make the uncertain magic systems more difficult to use?” 

“You'd think so too,” Momo said. “But the guy who thought that distinction up was doing as a writer. And we're not writers, at least I'm not.” She wondered if Dahyun would ever recreate the works she'd destroyed. Maybe Momo would buy her a pile of notebooks for it. Maybe she could even tell them about how her language worked. 

Her lip jutted out. It was almost a pout. "So I have to accept this?" 

"For now?" Momo suggested. "We can look into that too, but later." She'd have to make a list on this stuff, but she was pretty sure Dahyun knew everything she wasn't sure about. 

“Alright,” Dahyun sighed, "though their magic is almost more complex ours, elves rarely look for such rules or mechanisms.” Her eyes became distant for a moment. “So our way of life has frequently seemed truly terrible to them.” 

“For witches too,” Momo said. “At least my coven.” 

There was a thin outline of gold around her eyes. “And was your magic elemental? Or was there more?” She put the book down and leaned forward to look at Momo. She had the piercing gaze from before, as she waited for Momo’s words. 

There it was again, Momo was reminded of before: how Dahyun had always been so open to learning, no matter if it meant she was showing herself to be ignorant about something. She always wanted to _know_. 

"This,” Momo held up a small piece of ice, “wasn't always possible, but anyone could make a fire with the right spell.” 

“With word or thought?” 

“Both. Sigils too,” Momo said. “We also had rituals, like the one you did for your clothes.” 

“Did you channel the magic through something?” 

Momo smiled. “Not with wands, but some people used crystals.” 

“You didn’t” 

She shook her head. "They always exploded." Somehow, admitting it centuries later was still a bit embarrassing. 

Dahyun let out a surprised laugh. “You didn’t get hurt did you?” 

“Not really, but my hands used to be a little scarred because of it,” she brandished now smooth vampiric skin, “and I kept the scars until they got healed.” 

“To remind yourself that you should never use crystals for magic?” 

Momo nodded. 

Another small laugh. The thin ring around her irises was brighter now. “But did you ever have something like a patronus?” Dahyun asked. “Something that could ward away beings of fear or dark magic?” Then she added. "I think the word is spirits?"

“We only really dealt with vampires and werewolves.” Momo shrugged. “And the couple of times I did see a spirit was after I turned.”

“Due to the longer life?”

“And moving around more.” 

Dahyun only nodded. A distant look came back. The brightness in her eyes had dulled. 

Was she thinking about her nomadic lifestyle? Had she ever wanted to stay in a place? Or did she not like that? 

Momo felt an echo of the emptiness she’d felt before. She didn't want to feel that again. 

Dahyun’s eyes widened. “What is it? You're afraid?” Her brow furrowed. She got to her feet and walked over. 

Momo shook her head. “It’s just a thought,” she said. “One I didn’t expect I’d have.” Had she been naive? 

“Which was?” Dahyun knelt in front of her, looking up with worry-filled eyes. 

Should she ask that? What if she just delayed something that Dahyun wanted to do? If Dahyun was going to stay, it was because she wanted to. 

“Tell me if you’d like to,” Dahyun said. “If it could quell the uncertainty.” 

It would do that, but Momo was scared to hear the answer. 

Slowly, Momo found her voice. “Did you like moving from place to place?” 

Confusion was apparent in her face. To her it probably sounded like a simple question. Nothing that should’ve gotten this reaction. “It was interesting,” Dahyun said slowly. “We saw the variety of nature, met with different elves, as well as some fairies who did not move along with us.” A small pause. “The first time I encountered spirits was when I took to wandering on my own. They don’t like approaching groups, no matter if malevolent or benevolent.” 

That raised another question. Had Dahyun learned to fight because of that? Momo remembered how fluid each movement of Dahyun’s had been on the day she’d come for them. She had been swift in bringing the other fae down, able to incapacitate them, but she barely hurt them, let alone made a ached in a way that could kill. 

“Did they attack you?” Momo had only ever seen two spirits in her life. One had taken the shape of a snake, the other of a wolf. The snake had been benevolent, the wolf malevolent. They had tracked down elves to help them with it. They hadn’t been able to fight it. Maybe that was why it had come for them. It had known they were powerless against it. 

Dahyun just nodded. She shifted so that she sat cross-legged in front of Momo. 

She knew Dahyun could protect herself. She’d seen it. Yet she thought of how common it was for the fairies to distance themselves. Did they get attacked each time they went off on their own?

"Emotional magic is very effective," Dahyun said. “But there are spells and rituals against them.” 

“Is that the magic of the elves?” 

"Moonlight is the primary defence, but only one particular group can wield it, but most elves can use the other kind."  She nodded. “It's nature magic of a different type. Very difficult to manage. I’ve only ever succeeded in making weak wards.” She smiled slightly. “A grand total of three successes in my entire life.”

“Out of?” Momo could only match the smile. 

Dahyun put a hand to her own cheeks, her eyes flickering away to the wall. “Far too many considering how much time I’ve had.” 

Of course she would have tried it again and again. Even though she didn’t need the spells. Momo had given up after she'd blown up a couple of crystals. 

“And do you use good emotions to fight?” Momo asked. 

Dahyun nodded, the corner of her lip tugging up. "That's where Rowling was right. The stronger the emotion, the better it works. Except the spirit absorbs the magic." 

“So it’s like ammunition?” 

“Of a sort,” she said. “But not damaging.” 

The words sunk in. 

She remembered how grey had been absorbed into purple. 

Momo straightened. “It turns the spirit benevolent?" The snake had been pale blue. The wolf had been dark grey. 

Dahyun smiled fully. Momo could almost feel the warmth from where she sat. “That or neutral.” The look in her eyes turned incredibly gentle. “My parents discovered how spirits can be turned, even before I learned how to make the magic physical.” 

“Is that where their love went?” She hadn’t understood how studying an emotion could lead to it being lost. Was this the reason for it? “To make the spirits fully good?” The change probably depended on how strong the emotion was. 

“Incredible,” Dahyun murmured. “You also make these connections quickly.” Her eyes focused on Momo. “I was furious at them for not keeping those emotions. It took me some time to understand that it was the best way to help the spirits, otherwise large amounts of excitement or humour are spent completely.” 

They were able to part with it in order to help. Momo didn’t know what that meant, what it helped with, but it made sense. Yet Dahyun didn’t agree with it, she’d said as much, and the same showed through in her tone now. 

“It’s a different sort of selflessness to help a spirit,” the fairy said. “We think they’re born when people die. The emotions that are released either linger or are so potent that they end up gaining some sort of sentience. At least that is one theory." She pursed her lips. "So my parents never demanded of anyone to do the same, but they still gave what they had." 

“You can only give so much,” Momo said. “There’s a reason why humans only donate a certain amount of blood at a time. If they give too much, their body isn’t supplied by enough and there’s a chance they die.” Had they discussed blood donation with her before? 

“And then there is only one life preserved by an action, rather than two,” Dahyun finished. 

Either they had told her, or she’d just figured it out. 

“Like how we drink blood,” Momo nodded, “well, how we should drink blood.” She remembered the first time she’d drunk from someone. Mina had had to pry her away. The human had survived, but was greatly weakened. The second time Mina hadn’t been there. That person had died. 

“So you’re saying we ought to do it sparingly?”

Momo nodded again. The last few months had proven how valuable love was to a person, especially someone like Dahyun.

_Without you, today would have been my end._ According to Dahyun herself, the only reason she’d survived the witch attack was because of the emotions she’d gotten by being with them. 

And she’d amassed those emotions, despite having given them all up beforehand. If Sana and the others were right, she’d get to that point again. She could recover without getting the ones she’d lost back. _If_ they were right. Momo had thought they were wrong. She wasn’t sure. 

As they went back to reading, Momo realised that she hadn't actually asked Dahyun her real question. She still didn't know if Dahyun was here to stay, or if her lifestyle would mean that she'd leave again. 

_____

Several days had passed since Gerst left. Dahyun had counted them. Nine. She cherished each one as they came and went. The minutes that passed went slower when she let them. She could enjoy how the day rose and the night fell. She could appreciate how a house full of emotions felt—no longer as overwhelming, but comforting. Each emotion belonged to someone in the house. Each person was someone she trusted and someone who loved her, despite her not loving them as strongly. At least not yet. 

That was something she was afraid of. Would she ever feel the way she had before? She wanted to. Not just for their sake, but for hers as well. 

She looked back at her book. She was on the fourth book of the magical school series now. She enjoyed it immensely, but the magic sometimes made her remarkably curious and confused. Much of the time, it was because she knew the reality. That sort of magic present in the book almost always required time. Too much time. Combat like that of duelling with wands was all but impossible. Some elves did channel their magic through objects and Momo had said witches could do the same. Yet the magic Dahyun had seen carried out took a very long time. Still, the spells she saw in the text itself sounded incredible. It was when she thought about it further that everything became complicated. 

Yesterday, Momo had let her rant, once again, about the differences in magic she’d seen. She’d seemed to particularly enjoy it as well. The strange mix of emotions had also faded as they continued their discussions. 

Yet those emotions had returned today. Dahyun didn't know why. She only knew they were directed at Momo herself and Dahyun. It seemed that Momo struggled to make sense of the emotions as well. Dahyun wasn’t sure how Momo best approached such things. Did she prefer working through them verbally? Or when she was alone? She only knew that Momo was unsettled. Dahyun wanted to help her, but she wasn’t sure if _she_ was the right person for that. 

Sana had once told her that her ability to read emotions was not entirely fair. She'd never once condemned it, but she’d been right. And Momo had asked Dahyun if she knew what she was feeling. Dahyun had told her. The reaction had been shock, confusion, and more guilt. Dahyun hadn’t made anything better. She'd likely made things even more muddled. 

No, Momo needed to figure this out alone. Or with someone else. Just not with Dahyun, though it did pain her that she couldn’t help. 

But there was someone she could help. 

Dahyun put a thin sheet of thin cardboard in between the pages. They called it a bookmark. 

She stood and went out of her room. It was dark in the hall. Downstairs, some of the girls were watching something and quietly chatting as they did. It was more like how they were before. 

A few were in their rooms, one of them was still surrounded by tendrils of grey. 

Dahyun knocked on their door.

“Dahyun?” The door opened, revealing Tzuyu. Her eyes were brown, but Dahyun knew that one of them was still grey. Still taken by fear. Was she hiding her eyes for their sake? 

“I’m strong enough now,” Dahyun said. “I can help you with the fear.” 

Doubt was the response. 

So she continued. “I do not intend to absorb what you have, only to let other emotions do so,” she explained. “It will not hurt.”

Tzuyu gave her a look. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Dahyun blinked. “Well it certainly shouldn’t be me. Nothing will happen.” 

Dahyun’s strength in magic was lacking. If her concentration strayed away too far, all of her illusions would fall away. It was one of the main reasons she couldn’t go to school yet. Small outings were too tiring, as she’d learned. Yet working in the emotional world had gotten better. It didn't hurt as much as it had. 

“You’re sure?” Tzuyu asked. 

“Had I done this before, it would’ve been an issue,” Dahyun replied. “But now I know it will be fine.” It was true. Perhaps she’d grow more tired, but nothing else would happen. 

Tzuyu held her gaze for a long moment. Then she took a step back, leaving room for Dahyun to come in.

“What changed?” Tzuyu asked as Dahyun walked in. “What’s different compared to before?” 

“Time,” she said. “In your words, I think it's a sort of regeneration,” she sighed, “it’s slow, but certain things seem to bolster something. I’m not sure if it’s like a wound growing closed, or like those VI things you’ve told me about.” 

A small smile. “IV,” she corrected. Then she frowned. “So you’re not sure if it’s natural or caused by something else?”

Dahyun shook her head. “But I feel—well, I’m feeling.” She looked towards the window. She could see the sky and the tops of the trees were turning lighter. The moon hadn’t come to the sky on Tzuyu’s side. Not yet. “And has anything changed with you?” The fear was less than it had been, but the amount of it didn’t matter when it came to how you felt with it. 

“It surges less,” Tzuyu said. “I still see the memories.” Her eyes looked tired. 

“And you wouldn’t want to sleep, even if it becomes less,” Dahyun finished. Tzuyu was seeing Dahyun’s memories, perhaps Teresa’s as well. And her own. Dahyun only knew of the first two. She only had inklings of what the third entailed. 

Tzuyu nodded. “Do you know why emotions smell so distinct?” She sat down on her bed, inviting Dahyun to do the same. 

Right, the vampires could smell those emotions. Fear smelled like death. “No,” Dahyun sat, “do you each smell the emotions the same?” 

“We checked,” she said. “Love smells like flowers, fear like rot, calm like forests, sadness like fresh air,” she trailed off. “And the scent of grief is cold. Not like ice, because curiosity smells like that, at least the one of Gerst, smells like that. It’s just a combination of the scents you have in winter.” 

“Winter,” Dahyun repeated. While curiosity had a cold scent, but it was a warm emotion. “Strange. Calm doesn't taste like it came from the woods and sadness doesn't taste like nothing either.” 

“So it’s all over the place, huh?” Tzuyu’s brow rose. 

“I think so. Just think of the colours. There isn’t a true reason for that either, not quite.” 

The taller vampire smiled. “Tomorrow I’ll introduce you to colour psychology.” 

Dahyun felt a bit of excitement rise. Such a thing existed as well? She looked forward to it. 

Dahyun straightened. “I'll have to bring the fear to the surface,” she said. “Could I take one piece of the love you have? You will get it back afterwards, but—”

“Take it.” Tzuyu’s eyes were grey and blue now. 

Dahyun took hold of the emotional world, bringing it down. She saw anticipation, as well as doubt and worry. Both were directed at Dahyun. Once she delved a bit deeper, she saw the fear. It moved around sluggishly, not rushed by any outside force. Behind it lay a dark cloud of blue. Now and then it stretched between the different emotions before contracting into a pit-like shape. In between were the thick tendrils of green and purple, both of which moved like rivers among the emotions. They were bright, despite being darker colours themselves. The sight filled Dahyun with warmth. She took a small portion of the purple and pushed it into the physical world. 

It was in her hand. She passed it to Tzuyu. The vampire’s eyes were on hers. 

“Did you know that the edges of your irises still change colour?” Tzuyu asked. “They didn’t used to, but I’ve started seeing it more.” 

Dahyun nearly smiled. “A good sign.” She looked at the window. The moon was at the edge of the window. She wasn’t sure how long it had taken her to get the love. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to eliminate the fear. 

She closed her eyes again, steeled herself for what she would do now, and reached into Tzuyu’s mind. 

The fear moved more quickly now, curling like smoke from a fire. As if it could sense her trying to get to it. If the theory about spirits was true, then Dahyun could treat such emotions as if they had some sort of sentience. 

Dahyun called on the purple she still had within her. Not too much, but at least some of it. That would mean less of the purple in Tzuyu would be tarnished. 

It was a difficult process. The fear slipped from her grasp several times. Sometimes it felt much too cold, creating a pain in Dahyun’s mind if she held it too long. 

This time it jerked away, trying to delve deeper into Tzuyu’s emotions. She blocked it from doing so and it flowed towards her next. She took the purple still in her grasp and made it engulf that which still remained. It was slow-working, requiring a constant grip on both emotions. 

The pain in her mind increased. She brought sadness to the forefront, hoping to soothe it. It only worked partially. 

Somewhere around her, she heard voices. Were they memories or actually happening? She tuned them out, but she was nearly finished. 

And then she felt the pain go away almost completely. Warmth washed over her. It might have been too much, but it wasn’t an emotion that could overwhelm—not really. It wasn’t her own. She stopped the flow of the emotion. 

She pushed away the emotional world. A sharp pain had embedded itself in between her eyes. She heard the voices at full force, calls of her name and pleas for her to stop. Arms were around her. They were warm. 

Dahyun blinked, but her vision was blurred. Had she been crying? 

Fatigue pulled at her. 

“Dahyun?” Momo’s voice. She was beside her. 

Dahyun’s vision finally became more focused. She saw Tzuyu in front of her, eyes full of worry, but they were both blue. 

“Did it work?” Dahyun asked, her voice was heavy from the tears. Her heart beat quickly. More fear and grief had entered her blood. It wasn't painful, but she was cold. She was very much separate from the emotional world now. She could only feel the hints of their emotions. She couldn’t see any more than what was in front of her eyes. 

“Work?” Jihyo repeated. She sounded angry. It was the anger that came with worry. “You were,” her voice caught, “we thought that you were slipping.” 

Dahyun frowned at that. “It wouldn’t have happened.” Her heart wouldn't slow. She still felt so cold. 

“It didn’t look like it,” Sana said. She was the one holding her. It was from her hands that small bursts of warmth came. They carried with them small thrums of electricity, but nothing that was uncomfortable. It was the same feeling Dahyun felt if she touched an electronic device. “Both your eyes were grey, your skin was turning grey again, and,” she stopped talking. Her bottom lip trembled. 

“It might have looked like that,” Dahyun met each of their eyes, hoping she could convey how much her next words were true, “but everything’s alright.” Yes, she might have felt unsettled. Yes, her stomach might have felt like a stone, but she was far from being lost. 

“Your skin's freezing,” Tzuyu said. “Take it.” She held up three shards of purple.

She shook her head. “I don’t need them,” she tried to reassure her, “I mean that.” 

“I feel better than I ever have in weeks.” The blue-eyed vampire took her hand, opened her fingers, and pressed the shards into her palm. Her superior strength was more than obvious. “I don’t need these.” 

“And neither do I,” Dahyun protested. 

“Maybe not,” Sana said. “But take them.” Her tone had grown softer.

_I know what you’re feeling_. 

Sana knew which emotions were at the forefront of Dahyun’s mind. She might not have been able to understand everything she saw, but she would know the fear. Did she feel it herself?

Dahyun closed her fingers around the pieces of purple. She absorbed them, feeling the warmth spread through her limbs. Calm only gave her a fraction of this warmth. 

Tzuyu’s shoulders relaxed. “If I even get a hint that you’re trying to give that back, you and I're gonna have a few words.” 

She wondered if Sana would say the same. The purple-eyed vampire had given her some of her own love. Did she know she had done so? It was an incredible feat. Someone who was not fae, not part of her clan, could see emotions, and give them as well. She'd have to give them back, slowly. She'd keep her word to Tzuyu. Until she felt better. 

“So it worked?” Dahyun asked. “I…I cannot see if it has at the moment. Only your eyes.” 

Tzuyu gave her a half-smile. She still looked concerned. “It worked.” 

“Good.” She leaned back, her head meeting Sana’s shoulder. It should have been an uncomfortable position, but it felt like it was the exact opposite. The scent of Sana's perfume that she always put on, as well as the faint one of vanilla. She was safe here. "Good.” She closed her eyes, feeling her consciousness slip away almost immediately after. 

____

Momo looked at Dahyun’s sleeping figure. There was a tangle of black and grey threads on her forehead. Momo reached out, tracing them. The skin was freezing to the touch, even more than the skin on the hand Momo held. She wished she could wipe the threads away, or take them herself. 

“I think she actually thought nothing bad would happen.” Sana sat down on the other side. Her eyes didn’t even linger on the Momo’s hands. She didn’t look affected at all. She only held out a cup of hot chocolate. “Jeong made a big batch.” 

“There’s still some for when she wakes up?” Momo asked. She was still surprised that the fairy had never had hot chocolate before coming to them, not properly at least. A few centuries ago, she knew of the drink being available to the wealthy. But she didn’t know what exactly Dahyun had done when she’d last been among the humans.

Except for ‘borrowing’ books. She could see it in her head perfectly. Dahyun creeping among the shelves, her hair a combination of blues, eyes bright with anticipation, and a secretive smile on her face. Momo wanted to learn about those stories. She wanted to see blue hair again and a mischievous smile.

Sana smiled. “Yep.” She looked drained. 

Momo had seen Sana’s eyes glow brighter than normal earlier. She’d seen Dahyun relax in her arms. Something had happened. 

“Do you have a connection to her?” Momo asked. "One of magic?"

Sana’s eyes widened, but she didn’t get defensive. Her eyes turned pensive. “I can feel some of the emotions she’s feeling,” she said slowly. “And see them if I concentrate.” 

“You can give them to her too,” Momo added. 

She frowned then. “What?” 

“You didn’t notice?” 

Her eyes searched Momo’s face. “You think I gave her emotions?” A pause. “But that’s impossible.” 

Momo chuckled. “So is seeing them.” She wondered what it looked like. Dahyun had given her a glimpse of the calm in the bookstore. It almost been daunting in its beauty, but she knew she had to take Dahyun there more often. It was like the forest, but there were also books, ones she wanted Dahyun to read. If only to see the sparks of curiosity, to hear her pick their magic apart, to ask about the relationships growing, she wanted all of it.

Sana looked sheepish. “That too, but,” she sighed, “seeing them is confirmed, the other’s not.” 

“But I think it happened.” Momo described what she saw. "So it's pretty much confirmed." 

Sana looked scared. “But if I can give her that, then,” she trailed off, “no.” Her eyes became glassy. 

Momo went to her side immediately. “What is it?” She took her hand. “Is this why Gerst left?” 

Sana only nodded. Tears had started to fall. It pained her to see them. 

Momo pulled her in for a tight hug. Sana wrapped her arms around her waist. 

“I thought I’d figured out a way to help her,” she murmured into Momo’s neck. “He’s seeing if it can work, but he doesn’t know what you figured out.” 

“So you think it’ll all be for nothing?” 

Her voice dropped. “I’m pretty sure it will.” Then she explained her plan. How the connection between their emotions could mean that the fae could read Dahyun’s memories. Without the fairy having to live through any of them. But Sana would. 

“You’d go through that?” Momo asked. “And expose yourself?” They hadn’t been willing to have their minds be taken over, but Yrest and her people had managed it. What would happen if you were completely exposed? And Sana wouldn’t have the protection of Dahyun’s sadness. Her entire mind could be looked through, turned against her. Momo knew what that felt like. She didn't want Sana ever going through such a thing. 

“Only if she doesn’t get hurt.” Sana’s voice sounded so small. 

Then Momo understood. Sana wasn’t scared of the exposure. Or it wasn't her main fear. “You can’t do that if you accidentally give her something.” 

“And what if it’s even more?” Sana asked. “She feels echoes of several things, they’re getting stronger, but it’s not like how you or me feel.” A pause. “And if I feel everything at full strength, not even being able to expect what happens,“ she cut off. More tears fell. 

“She could be overwhelmed,” Momo finished. 

Her eyes closed. “I promised that if she wasn't safe, I’d never go through with it,” Sana said, her voice was filled with disappointment. 

“But it’s not for sure,” Momo replied. “We don’t know how memories like that work.” She paused. “We don’t know how memories work in general, not really.” 

Sana pulled away, but didn’t let go. “I’m not betting anything on a maybe. She won’t either.” 

A small murmur came then. “No. I won't.” 

Both of them jumped. Then broke away.

“How much did you hear?” Momo turned to her. 

“Enough to know this is nothing you should worry about any longer,” Dahyun sat up, “you will do no such thing.”

A part of her agreed, but how could Dahyun be so ready to reject this? 

“And if Gerst comes back, we tell him this, but it could still work?” Momo asked. 

“No,” Dahyun said. Her eyes were unusually cold. “You shouldn’t need to do that for me.” 

“But if it did work,” Sana said. “And nothing would happen to you?” 

She shook her head. “Even if that were the case, something could happen to you.”

“Something could happen at any time,” Momo replied. She didn’t want to, but she thought of _her_. Dahyun would see her grief. Even though she didn’t know that story, she would understand what she meant by that. You could never be sure that you could protect the people you loved. There was always the chance of a mistake being made, or something completely out of your control barrelling in. 

She saw it in the fairy’s eyes. Any anger Dahyun had been feeling disappeared. Resolve filled her gaze next. With it came a more desperate anger. 

“My people hardly care about elves. Humans and vampires count for much less.” The edges of her black and grey irises mixed with something else. “You’ll be exposing your entire mind to them. Even if you’d be protected, they could still haunt your dreams, or keep you awake for weeks!” It was the loudest Dahyun ever raised her voice. 

Momo felt Sana wince beside her. She saw red in Dahyun’s eyes. The grey seemed stronger. 

“And if this works and I come away fine, you’ll be better off for it,” Sana said. Momo didn’t know where the change had come from, but it meant that Sana was still hoping it would work. 

“An if is the same as a might or a maybe,” Dahyun shot back. Her eyes bore into both Momo’s and Sana’s. The scent of fire had flooded into the air. “You wouldn't risk a 'might' for me for fear it would hurt me. They wouldn't show you any mercy if they wanted to hurt you, Sana. And I will never risk an 'if' for you."

“But you’re allowed to do it for yourself,” Sana snapped. 

As Sana had, Dahyun flinched. 

Momo knew that Sana was trying to reigning in her tone, but she also knew what she was thinking about. 

Dahyun’s skin was still a combination of black, grey, and white. Her eyes were still black and grey. And she’d still gone to help Tzuyu with the fear. 

Sana continued, this time her voice was steady, but her eyes were a blazing purple. “You were willing to die for us, but the moment someone else has the chance to help you, you decide now that they can’t do anything?”

Momo could see how both wanted to say more, but they didn't. Neither wanted to argue, but neither would back down. And not one of the two wanted to hurt the other with words. To watch the way their anger rose and fell in a matter of seconds, she couldn’t bear it. 

“We don’t even know what Gerst’s answer will be,” Momo said. “And we’re talking as if one of us is right, but we don’t know.” She took both of their hands in her own. Sana’s was extremely warm compared to Dahyun’s. “We can’t. Not yet.” She ran her thumbs over the backs of their hands. “So we wait.” 

The scent of fire subsided to distant smoke. Rot still hung around them, but she could feel how the scent of forests was trying to get through. Dahyun was trying. The same thing was happening with Sana. Momo could see it in her eyes. 

Dahyun looked at her, red still rimmed her irises, but it wasn't as bright anymore. “Is it not enough for me to recover as I have?” she asked. Her voice was shaky. “Or are the changes I feel only minuscule in truth?” She looked to Sana and Momo saw the vulnerability creeping into her gaze. She saw how fragile Dahyun was in this moment.

It reminded Momo of the day Dahyun had told them about Teresa. A time when her eyes had been ever changing and her skin clear of fear and grief, but she'd been drowning in guilt.

“It’s more than enough,” Sana said then, all tension in her voice gone. It was now only gentle. “You’re smiling and laughing again." Her free hand took Dahyun’s.

“And you’re curious again,” Momo added. “You plowed through the Romans and Greeks like no other. Then you looked into Hinduism, while speculating about how impossible it is for a car to be made sentient.” She smiled slightly, remembering their long debate. “And on the side you’re weaving a piece of clothing from your emotions.” 

Dahyun chuckled. “Technically it’s two pieces.” 

Momo squeezed her hand. “You get my point.” And it was _her_ point. Not words to make Dahyun or herself feel better. She meant it. Watching Dahyun pick apart fiction, even if it was on the border of going way overboard, and facing her fierce rejection of any of them doing something for her—it cemented the reality that she’d been wrong. She was so happy to be proven wrong. 

Dahyun smiled then, fully. “I do.” 

Sana’s grip on Momo’s tightened. She looked up to see her violet eyes shining. 

Her own eyes began to burn. She blinked several times to stop the flow of tears. 

“We’ll wait then,” Dahyun said softly. “But I cannot put the safety of your mind at risk,” she looked at Sana, “I do not trust them. And if you were in danger only for my sake, I’d—“ Her voice broke. She didn’t keep speaking, she only bowed her head. 

It said enough. Dahyun would blame herself, even if it was Sana’s decision. Just as she held herself responsible for everything else, no matter if it had been in her control or not. 

“You’re already blaming yourself,” Sana squeezed Momo’s hand once before letting go, “like you said, we’re waiting.” She moved so that she was fully facing the fairy. “Can we stay with you tonight?” Both her hands held Dahyun’s. Her eyes were back to brown now, but they held no less love than before.

Momo didn’t feel the urge to look away. She only did to see Dahyun’s reaction. 

We. Would that be alright? Dahyun hadn’t ever complained of physical contact before, but it had still been unusual to her. How was it now? 

“Please,” Dahyun said. She held Sana’s gaze for a long moment. Then she looked at Momo. “Even though it is only for a few hours and if you’d want to.” 

She felt a warmth build in her chest. It stretched across towards her arms. Not at all uncomfortable. 

Momo crawled over to Dahyun’s other side. She didn’t say anything more. 

Neither Sana nor Momo reached out. They just lay beside her. 

Momo felt at ease here. Even though the scent of decay lingered, she was able to focus on that of mountains and forests. They let her sink further into the mattress. She was able to relax.

“Neither of you want a blanket?” Dahyun asked. Her eyes were closed and the words were already heavy with fatigue. Whatever she had done earlier she drained her. The stress from just now probably hadn’t helped either. 

“Don’t need it,” Momo said. 

“Vampires don’t get cold,” Sana added. “Most of the time.” 

Dahyun didn’t respond. Her breathing had eased. 

“Already out,” Sana whispered. “Had a rough wake up.” There was some sort of humour there, but it was strained. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Momo said. “You were gonna have this talk at some point.” She was glad it hadn’t become a shouting match. No, it wouldn’t have become that. Dahyun didn’t shout. She hadn’t even done so when she’d known that it was Rila who‘d betrayed her. Dahyun’s anger was quiet. It seethed without building to a breaking point, but it could diffuse just as quickly. 

That made her wonder, did Dahyun hold grudges? Could she? Whenever she’d spoken of Rila, Momo hadn’t even heard a hint of spite. Maybe that was because of the state of her emotions as a whole. But even before that, when she’d spoken of her captors, of Yrest, there'd been anger. Except that had been more herself than anyone else.

And she had refused to kill any of the other fae, not even the one who had orchestrated so much of it. Momo was confident now that Dahyun could have gotten them all out of that situation without sacrificing herself. But not without killing them or incapacitating them, the latter of which would have led to another chase.

No, Dahyun didn’t hold grudges. The one act of revenge she’d carried out had been right after losing someone dear to her. But only a year after that rage had passed, Dahyun was no longer vengeful. 

Momo wondered what that meant for everything else. Dahyun wasn’t spiteful for being banished. She wasn’t outraged at the fact that she was being falsely accused of something. What if the fae knew that? What if they were using this? 

She tried not to let her anger rise. It would wake Dahyun up, but she knew it would continue to build. Unlike Dahyun, all of them were outraged. Unlike Dahyun, they did hold grudges. And unlike Dahyun, they would try to right those wrongs. They had to. 

That was when the scent of flowers filled her nose. It was more potent than any field she'd ever come across. With it came ice. There were also others scents she couldn't place, but knew belonged to something else. 

Gerst had returned. And he'd brought another fae with him. There were others too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you can forgive me for the many talks of magic. The hard and soft magic systems are a thing. The author Branden Sanderson talks about them at length. Regardless, there are a few threads (have I already said this?) coming into play before we can reach the place I'm working towards. The talk of elves will soon make sense. Hopefully it will be to your liking!
> 
> The way this story has gone may not be what you thought (at times it wasn't what I'd expected either), but I hope the journey has still been worth it.
> 
> Momo is coming around, while Sana's plan has been put into question, as well as revealed to both Dahyun and Momo. What might become of it now that Gerst is back?
> 
> If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask! I tried to find a balance between a more lighthearted talk of magic and the more pressing parts of the plot.
> 
> I hope you're all doing well! Stay healthy. See you next chapter. 


End file.
